Deep in the Bluebell Woods
by SuperUltraMegaMiko
Summary: These woods hide a secret...a secret that must be kept. Open the gates to the outside world and they'll rush in to burn it down. You can keep your mouth closed about this, right? You know fires are our mortal enemy...
1. Prologue

The sky is pitch black, speckled with shining white stars. The moon is most certainly not full, but can still be seen. Its current shape is a thin, slick and pointy curved line; it looks like one could prick themselves on its points.  
The village of Calton rests as it's as dark as the night and as silent as a sleeping mouse.

The slow creaking of a thin wooden door echoes through the wide, dirt roads that connect the community of houses, shops and everything one can find out near the woods.  
"Why are we leaving Alister behind?"  
"I couldn't wake him up...at least he will be there to take care of Arthur if he wakes up."

A mother and her son whisper to each other, not wanting to make any more noise than necessary. They quietly gasp, thinking they hear foreign footsteps. The mother - out of instinct - wraps her arms around her child. She then looks around and above, pushing her black witch hat further to the back of her head so it doesn't block her view. She doesn't lay her eyes upon any beings.

"Quiet love, we cannot afford to get caught..." The husband warns with a stern yet quiet and loving tone, grabbing the rim of his wizard hat and gently screwing it down on his head tighter.  
"Yeah..." Their second son takes his side of choice, that side being his Father's.

Their dark capes of black, ocean blue, royal purple and a chocolate brown keep their bodies hidden, with their hats providing shade from the light of the moon and stars. Brown and mostly worn boots trot, dig into and scrape against the dusty road, headed down to the lake. The lake reflects the sky but gives it a mystical touch of fantasy to it. It's not a long trek, only a few minutes of walking at a brisk pace is needed. The lake is completely still and silent; it could be used as a mirror if one so wishes to. The family of currently four halt their march before their boots can accidentally make the water ripple.

"Go ahead Aeron. You can manage this." The mother squats down to her son's height, gently adjusting his own wizard hat that swirls to a point at the very top. Then she gently rubs his back in a slow up and down motion, providing more comfort for him so he can get into the right mindset.

The young boy looks at his reflection in the lake. He sees his bushy, thick eyebrows, his peachy-blonde hair that's combed over to the left which leaves the right side of his forehead bare. From what he can see of the back of his hair, the two visible soft 'bangs' make his whole appearance look gentle, along with his bright green eyes that look almost fluorescent. His skin is a pale peach colour that could easily reflect back light.

Tilting his head, Aeron looks up at the sky, before looking back down at the still lake. A deep yet silent breath he takes in, before breathing it back out.  
From his belt, he pulls out a smooth and pointy stick; it appears to be a wand of some kind. He taps his wand against the dirt a few times, kicking up a bit of dust. He then points it straight at the stars, then flicking it downward at the lake. Suddenly, a burst of weight hits the wand which makes him flinch and crouches to the floor, just barely keeping his wand out of the water.

"Don't worry son; you can do it." His father rallies quietly, wanting his son to succeed.

Aeron crunches his face, changing it to a look with determination written all over it. With a single flick of his wrist, right up into the sky, the reflections of the stars that once lay on the lake are flung into the air; it looks like a display of fireflies.  
Pulling his hat back down for a firmer grip, Aeron then looks up at the display above the lake in which he has just created. "I...I did it.." He whispers with a giggle. "I did it!" He jumps in the air, then twirling himself around on one leg with a hop to it. His family do their best to silently clap in praise.

"We've finally caught them!" A voice from afar shouts with a tired chuckle sound.

The family take a sudden turn to look behind them. There stand two adult male figures holding torches; the fire barely lights up their faces. One has shady brown eyes that make a perfect mirror for the sky, his hair is short, dark and curly, and his face a creamy olive tone if the fire doesn't lie, and his chin appears to have a short stubble. The other man has a chilling blue-green hue to his eyes that could paralyse you out of fear, the visible side of his face shows a small braid resting on his shoulder, with the rest of his blonde hair being very long, longer than some females even wear theirs, his skin tone is more peachy and bright when compared to what looks like his friend.

"You did a good job Kirklands, thinking you could practise your magic at night. And for a while, it worked!" The dark-eyed one jokingly chuckles.  
"It's a shame for you that we can't take any chances. You will be burned as soon as possible...unless you stand down." The bright-eyed one continues. There is a lack of pity in both his deep voice and his glare.

The boys scramble behind their parents, shaking with fear.  
The parents pull out their own wands, the mother wielding a wand that swirls to a pointy end, the father having a smooth one with a flat tip, but with the tight bandage in the centre it looks as if it has been broken before. "Stand back." The mother warns. "We will defend ourselves and our children by any means necessary." The tip of her wand glows a white colour.

"If you fire, your fate is sealed."

"Mummy...what are they talking about?"  
"Burned? Are we..."  
"We will be fine kids..." Their father reassures.

Running his hand across his wand with a quick and delicate flick, the father's wand starts emitting light as well, but this time, it's a sickening purple colour. "YAH!" Thrusting forward, a stream of purple light is shot at one of the men.

One of the torches falls and is extinguished upon contact with the ground, making the dark-haired man akin to invisible. He yells in pain and falls to his knees. To support himself, he forces weight on one arm by firmly pressing the palm of his hand against the dry ground, with the contrary clutching the place of impact.  
"Julius!"  
Julius lets out a pained cough, followed by a laugh. "Don't worry about me Conrad...I can live through this." He tries reassuring his still-standing friend. He begins shaking under his own weight. "Gotta...support the wife through another pregnancy, you hear?" With a sudden gasp for air, he gives in and collapses, head practically slamming itself against the ground.  
Conrad's glare is like that of a hungry lion; out to kill. Sticking two of his fingers in his mouth, he blows out a whistle.

It echoes through the silent night.

It's as if time itself is frozen for mere seconds. No sudden movements, or movement at all.

Thunder claps in the distance, a storm is rolling in.

As if like a signal for action, footsteps of the town come marching to aid Conrad. They seem to know what's going on. Some carry torches that are doomed to extinguish, others carry rope, piles of sticks as well as sharp tools; intended for farming but can be used for something else...

"Just face it. It's all over. You've lost." Conrad folds his arms, not removing his cold stare from the family. A sudden gust of wind whips up, smacking Conrad right in the face. His torch goes out and his long hair it while it can.  
"Get them."

The crowd rush at the magical family, giving little reaction time.

"Don't worry boys, I've- AYAGH!"  
"DADDY!"  
"HONEY! D- AIIIEEE!"  
"MUMMY!"

Conrad watches as not only the downpour of rain begins but the slow, painful and horrific execution of the Kirkland family begins. The parents are stabbed in the gut with sharp tools such as dirty pitchforks and rusty rakes, rendering them too weak to defend themselves so they can't resist against anything, leaving them as mere rag dolls that can be tossed around with ease. The children are smacked around until they beg for mercy through their tears and wails.  
The family is then tied up with roughly textured yet sturdy rope. Hands behind their back, legs kept together...what have they done that was such a crime?

Lightning flashes, with the thunder following.

The loud noise wakes up the redheaded Alister. His hair is unbrushed and fizzes out to the sides with a lot of loose hairs. The hair against his neck is short, thin and curls up against his skin. The top of his hair is a rather flat surface that spreads out; as if he never bothered to brush after wearing his hat. Surprisingly, his dark, thick eyebrows are neatly kept, the complete opposite of his hair.  
"Ma..?" He yawns, looking around. The house seems empty, with his brothers gone. No one replies to him.

His eyes shoot wide open upon hearing the scared crying of his younger brother. Looking over at the wooden cot, Arthur has kicked away his blanket, and he's throwing his arms around. Soft tears escape his mossy green eyes, he needs comfort.

Jumping out of bed and tossing the blanket to the side, Alister rushes to the coat rack, grabbing two capes and two hats - One Cape being a rustic red, the other being a simple yet very dark green.  
Turning his bare foot around, he runs straight to the crib. Forcing one side of the crib down, he grabs his brother and gently bounces him. "Shhh...we're going to go find Ma and Pa, alright?" Alister softly kisses Arthur's soft forehead, before putting the small wizard hat on him - The point of his hat is shifted to the side; as if part of it was squished. Alister's own hat point flops down to the side.  
Wrapping the small green cape around his brother, then clicking it in place by pressing down on the golden button with a smooth rim. Alister does the same with his red one to himself, still holding onto Arthur with a firm and protective grip, fixing the way he holds Arthur to a supportive two-arm hold once he's done.  
"Come on now...no noises."  
Stepping into his ankle-high boots on his way out, he rams the door open as it hadn't even been properly locked. His boots crush the small pebbles made of mostly dirt, he runs down to the lake. Arthur doesn't make a sound, eyes half-shut.

Coming to a screeching halt, Alister digs the back of his boots into the softening ground. What stands before him is all the adults in the village, all chanting.

"No...it can't be..." His words barely escape his mouth, almost choking on them. He tries to pull them back in with a gasp, but it does nothing, for now. The words slither quietly in the wind and get drowned out by the rain.

Taking two steps back, then turning around to run the path that leads into the local forest - The Bluebell Woods.

"If I can just hide you..." Alister murmurs, pulling Arthur in close.

The heavy and panicked footsteps sound out through the rain, alerting Conrad.  
"There. There's one more." He points in Alister's direction. "Take no chances."

The villagers rush after the young Alister, no questions asked.

Getting into the cover of the thick forest, the broad green leaves of the trees block out most of the pouring rain, as they bounce off of the leaves and drip down through small cracks where rays of light typically shine through.  
Alister keeps running, his feet almost sinking into the softening dirt path of the forest.  
He has no clear destination, so he lets his feet guide him through the woods.

Looking at the branches of the trees and near their roots where flowers and mushrooms bloom, mythical creatures of fairies and winged animals hide from the rain. Bigger animals such as unicorns take shelter in bushes. Most seem to be asleep, but some have woken up by the sound of the thunder that rolls in every minute.

"He went this way!"  
The villagers that followed Alister are yelling in the distance, looking for him.

Alister holds back his loud breath, looking for openings so he can escape into the thickness of the woods and off the dirt path.  
Eventually, his eyes glue to the ground before him. Blue flames flicker, curling in their flames to beckon Alister. "This way! Follow us!" They softly call.  
Alister looks back, the footsteps of the villagers are getting louder. If he continues along the path any longer, Arthur and he are as good as dead. He fixates his eyes back onto the small wisps, and he takes a turn into the nearest tree gap, as the wisps lead him away from the path.

The wind picks up in both speed and strength. Alister begins to slow down due to the running making his feet feel heavy. The wind gently steers the wobbly Alister slightly off-course more than a few times.

His boots - now having sustained damage by scraping against and stepping over the floor of the forest - dragged him down to a complete halt and left him gasping for air.  
The trail of wisps he was following end, as he sees no more. Just a hollowed out tree sheltering a few fairies, a minty green bunny with wings and a big, muscular green troll sits in the corner.  
The fairies look at the weary Alister in pity; Alister looking back with eyes ready to snap shut.

Forcing his feet into the air to move forward just a few more steps, he makes his way into the tree. His knees give in, making his legs collapse.  
He says nothing to the fairies but acknowledges their presence with a gentle nod.  
From his arms, he gently shakes Arthur out of his grip and places the sleeping toddler on the soft grass, leaning in to kiss Arthur's forehead before pulling his upper half back up.

"I guess this means goodbye..." Alister mutters. One second his eyes seem completely dry, the second he blinks his eyes become waterfalls.  
"You'll be safe here, away from all those nasty people in the village...they can't harm you here." He continues. He takes a deep breath before pushing against the ground to launch himself into a standing position. "Just remember...we all love you very much, Arthur...Ma, Pa, Aeron, Aidan and me." A smile grows on his face despite his tears. "E...even though you won't be with us anymore, we will still be with you." He turns one foot by 90 degrees, ready to walk away. He lets out a happy laugh only to be counteracted by more tears. "Just wait till I tell Ma and Pa! They'll be so happy you have a safe haven..." Using the back of his arm, he wipes away a chunk of the tears that have escaped his eyes. Now having rested for even just that little moment, he has enough strength to run once more. He turns around completely and runs out from inside the hollow tree.

"I wish I could stay with you...but if I don't hand myself in, they'll search until they find us both...one of us can survive, and they will." Alister mutters to himself, pretending he's talking to Arthur.

He runs back the way he came, at least he tries to.  
Not watching the ground and just looking ahead, he trips over a stretched out root to a nearby tree, sounding out a loud thud upon contact with the ground.  
"Over here!" Voices call out.

Alister pushes his upper body up, not bothering to stand. He's lured the hunters away from his brother; his mission is complete.

A small stampede of feet comes closer to Alister, eventually stopping when he can see a group of a dozen adults tower over him. He knows he can't fend them off. He stretches out his arms, raising them up from the elbows to signal a surrender. His head hangs low.

One of the adults from the small crowd walks forward, the ponytail he has thumps against his back as he moves. Bending his knees, he picks up the now harmless Alister.  
The man can't conjure up any words to say to say to Alister, so he looks back at the group. "...time to head back then."

* * *

"Any last words?"

"..."

"Suit yourself."

The Kirkland family - all assumed to be accounted for - are tied up around a thick wooden pole. Below their feet is a pile of sticks and hay. The rain has since stopped and all is dry.  
Conrad holds out his torch above the pile of flammable objects. One by one, he stretches out each finger. Soon, all five fingers are no longer gripping the torch, and it drops onto the pile. Nearby twigs set alight, with an intense domino effect as a further reaction.  
Soon, the flames reach the family, and they let out their screams of pain.

Conrad's glare doesn't change. He has no mercy for these people.

As the crowd around them walks off, Conrad stays to watch. Arms folded, feet firmly planted. The scene before him reflects in his eyes. He takes it in, but not to heart.

* * *

As the flames flicker, screams of pain follow.

Back in the woods, the pained sounds of the Kirklands echo throughout. In reaction to this, Arthur wakes up as if crawling out of a nightmare. Forcing himself to sit up, he looks around to see that he is not in the comfort of his crib with no familiar face in sight.

The now worried fairies flutter over to him.

Despite the fairies, Arthur is unable to be consumed by awe or joy. All he can hear are the cries of his family. In turn, he cries along with them...unfortunately knowing what their wails mean.


	2. The boy in the woods

One year later...

* * *

The village of Calton was still rather quiet. No one had talked about the burning of the Kirklands since the day it happened. Not even on the first year anniversary of the event...not even the men responsible...

The morning sun beckons the villagers to wake, almost urging them by getting brighter by the second. If the sun didn't wake one up, surely their family would.

"Good morning father."  
"Hm...I slept in again did I, Roderich?"

Sitting up in his bed then rubbing his messy head of hair, Conrad looks down to the side of his bed, looking at his son Roderich. Roderich's spiky and dark brown hair is neatly combed back aside from a stubborn cowlick to the right corner of his forehead. Silver-rimmed glasses rest on his nose and slightly cover his violet eyes, and a small mole is located below the left corner of his mouth. The clothes he wears are a long-sleeved purple shirt and black shorts, with his footwear being formal black lace-up shoes; accompanied by white socks.

"Just by half an hour..." Roderich specifies.  
Conrad smiles, but it quickly turns back to a grumpy frown. "What did I say about holding Ludwig?" He almost rhetorically asks, noting the young, blonde-haired child wrapped up in a white blanket that's all snug and sleepy in Roderich's arms.  
"I know, I know..." Roderich replies, tilting his head and sighing a little. "But unlike Gilbert I'm responsible! Mother trusts me with Ludwig, and-"

Roderich is cut off as Ludwig begins to mumble and his eyes slowly open, revealing his bright blue eyes that can shine in the dark.

"Ah, good morning little brother!" Roderich hums with glee.  
"Well, I guess I can't tell you to put him back to bed now..." Conrad pulls the blankets to the side before pushing himself out of bed, pressing down on the lower section his back as he stands to make sure it's cracked into place. He looks back down at his children. "Where is Gilbert, now that I think about it..."  
"Oh, he went off to play with Antonio and Francis...as usual." Roderich answers as he puffs his cheeks up a little.  
"You're not going to? I thought you were friends with them too." Conrad questions as he slides one of his hands onto his hip.  
"I'm looking after Ludwig like a good big brother should do..." Roderich replies, tightening his grip around Ludwig by a little bit.  
"Well, I'll tell them you said hello. I should check on Julius anyway...poor guy's gotten sick, but it doesn't seem contagious since his kids haven't caught it..." Conrad walks towards his wardrobe to put on more socially acceptable clothes than a white singlet and tan boxers.

He ends up putting on a white shirt with tan and blue lines that create a plaid pattern. His baggy pants are worn and seem permanently stained with dry dirt, but it makes no difference to the overall colouring of his pants for they are a light tan colour. Putting his black rubber boots on and tucking his pants into them. Before he exits his room, he grabs a black hair tie to pulls his hair up into an elegant looking ponytail, but some strokes of hair simply gravitate towards the front of his shoulders and avoid being grouped into the ponytail.

Walking through the doorway, down the hall then pushing the front door open, he's greeted by soft and dry winds, accompanied by the warm rays of the sun.

He walks through the main dirt road of the town. All the kids are outside playing. One of the houses is white and looks rather new. A wooden picket fence clearly shows the area of the front yard, where two silver-haired children play; one a girl and the other a boy. Their ages seem around six and seven, with the girl looking older.  
"Hi, Mr Beilschmidt!" The girl greets upon seeing Conrad, with the boy simply waving as he grips onto his playmate's arm.  
"Morning Irunya. Same goes for you Ivan." Conrad greets back.  
"Are you going to visit Mr Vargas today?" Irunya asks.  
"Where else would I be headed?" Conrad can't help but chuckle a little in response. He slightly rolls his head back and pulls his fingers through his silky ponytail.  
"Well, my mother says she wants to help him out! She has leftover Ukha from last night, and she says his family needs it more than we do." Irunya says.  
"That's rather kind...I'll wait here while you go get it then." Conrad accepts their kindness. "I'm sure I can carry a pot of leftovers."  
"Come on Ivan, let's go!" Irunya tugs on Ivan's light brown and snug looking jacket, before outright pulling him along as she runs inside.

Not really able to keep moving for the moment, Conrad gently leans against the fence which barely reaches above his knees. To his left he sees a plain wooden house, unpainted. It looks both old and new. Old as how it was constructed but new as in it looks recently made. The front yard is full of unused wood planks and long grass; no one is outside.  
To his right is a rather old looking house. The green and yellow paint are peeling off of the wooden pillars that keep the porch held up. Two men in their 20s - one early and one late - sit at a table and drink tea.  
"Oh, hello Yao, Kiku. Didn't see you two over there." Conrad calls as he waves.  
The two men flinch, with the one that has short black hair almost choking on his tea. He stands up to properly slam on the front of his chest so the tea doesn't go down the wrong pipe. He wears a plain white robe, similar to a kimono. A golden ribbon ties it up so it doesn't flop about too loosely. He coughs up a few small splashes of tea before taking a deep breath.  
"Sorry about that Kiku!" Conrad apologises.  
"N-no, it's fine." Kiku tries reassuring. He still seems a little bit shaky, with his brown eyes rattling about.

The other man with his brown hair tied up into a ponytail stands up to walk to the other side of the table. He gently rubs Kiku's back. The sleeves of his kimono-esque robes look way too long, as they droop over his hands. The red colour with golden rims seems to suit him fairly well. "You startled me a little bit too." He chuckles, looking at Conrad. "You're fine, brother." He assures Kiku, gently slapping his back before removing his hand completely.  
"Well, I must apologise for startling you both." Conrad insists. "Perhaps I can-"

"Mr Beilschmidt! We're back!" Irunya calls out.  
Conrad turns his head back the other way to watch the two children run up to him with a black pot of soup. The top of the pot is covered with tin foil, securely tied on with rope. Conrad holds out his arms and grips onto the handles of the pot, lifting it out of the grip of Ivan and Irunya. He ushers a nod with a small smile to thank the two. "Don't worry, you'll get your pot back. For Julius, tell your mother 'thank you'." He turns his head again, looking at Kiku and Yao. "I'll see you, two men, later, yeah?"  
"Oh, of course!" Kiku replies with a bow before gently waving his hand as Conrad begins to walk off. Yao's waving is a lot wider and full of energy when compared to Kiku's. "Yeah! See you!" Yao calls out.

Conrad continues down the path to the Vargas residence. He passes by more houses, one that sticks out looks as if it's being refurbished due to all the old furniture out on the front yard. A young boy - light tan, soft green eyes and short brown hair - is jumping on the worn-out couch. The woman that seems to be his mother walks out of the house and upon seeing her son jumping on the old couch, chooses to scold him.  
"Gupta! I told you that could break at any moment, and you could hurt yourself! Get off!"  
Gupta doesn't seem to listen.

She picks up her white sleeveless dress as it goes down to her ankles, her feet quickly trot over to the couch, and she grabs the young boy.  
"But moth-"  
"Good morning Nefi." Conrad interrupts the two, obviously talking to the woman.

Nefi freezes for a split second upon hearing the voice of Conrad. Turning around to look at him, she gives off a bright smile. "It is a good morning, isn't it Conrad?" She rhetorically asks with a slight giggle in her voice as she puts her son down. "Oh! You have a pot of soup there I see." She observes.  
"Yeah. The Braginsky's kindly gave away last night's leftovers intended for Julius and his kids." Conrad briefly explains.  
"That's so kind of them!" Nefi clasps her hands in delight as her son runs off back into the house. "It really is nice to see everyone trying to help him out. The loss of Eirene hit the family hard, not to mention that illness he seems to have come down with." Her smile gently fades, and she raises her hands so one of them grips onto her chin. "There must be something I can do to help out...after all, he did help me move in a few years back."  
"I'm sure he'd appreciate someone doing his laundry...just as a suggestion." Conrad brings up. "He's pretty lazy when it comes to that, and now that he's sick..."  
"Oh! Good idea! I'll ask him about that later." Nefi perks up a little bit, gently brushing some of her fringe out of her foggy blue eyes, then she can't help but notice some loose hairs on her shoulder and brushes them off.  
"Well, I best be off now. It was nice talking to you." Conrad replies, readjusting his grip on the pot by shrugging his shoulders up to make sure it won't slip out of his grasp. He already had a firm, dry grip but you could never be too careful.  
"I'll see you later!" Nefi waves goodbye as Conrad continues walking down the dirt road.

As Conrad walks out of her sight, Nefi sighs a little bit. "Oh, Eirene...you poor girl. You were always left weak after birth, but no one thought it would be enough to kill you...how I'll miss our lunch dates while we let our children play with each other. I'll make sure Julius looks after the kids for you."

Conrad comes across one more detour before he can make it all the way to his destination. Turning his head right to look at the Blue and white painted house, a young boy of about 4 comes running at him, so Conrad takes a step back to avoid crashing into the boy.  
The boy digs the heels of his bare feet into the dirt to properly stop so he can turn to look up at Conrad. The boy's hair is neither short nor considered long for a male, and it's a creamy blonde colour. His eyes are an olive green and look a little empty.  
"Ah, Mr Conrad. Have you maybe seen my younger sister Laura?" The boy asks.  
Conrad shakes his head. "Sorry Govert." He says to the young boy.

Govert sighs a little bit. "It's her bath time...the water will only stay warm for so long."  
Conrad bends down to Govert's height. "I'll keep an eye out for her. She couldn't have gotten too far." He insists, putting on a smile so Govert isn't too upset.  
"Thank you." Govert replies. He doesn't seem to be the type to smile, but he is obviously thankful for the offer.  
"Well, off you go now." Conrad lifts up the pot along with his upper body, and he waits for Govert to continue running before he continues down his own path.

At the last left turn is a rotting old house that looks as if it's been there for years. The metal roof is rusty and all over the walls and wooden pillars for the porch, paint is peeling off. In the front yard, three children run around after a ball; one with short brown hair, another with short white hair and the other one has wavy blonde hair.

"Vati!" The white-haired boy flinches upon seeing Conrad. His red eyes seem to shrink before he hides behind the blonde-haired child with the wavy shoulder-length hair and blue dress; giving off a very feminine look.  
Conrad chuckles softly. "Oh don't worry Gilbert, I didn't come to scold you for anything or take you home-" He says, looking down at the children. "I came to see Julius, do you know where he is?"  
The brunette steps forward. His eyes are a solid green colour and his skin has an olive tint, his clothes appear to be cheap or hand-me-downs from years ago, as he wears a white t-shirt; seemingly permanently stained by things such as mud, paint and it's also torn a little about the place. His navy shorts pass over his knees and are kept up via a rope around the waist, showing it's not actually meant to fit him.  
"I do! Papa is inside, in the living room. Last I saw he was in his chair." He says, pointing at the closed front door.  
The blonde one runs up to the door, pulling it open for Conrad. "There you are~"  
"Thank you, Francis." Conrad says as he walks up to the door and then through it.

A short hallway walk into the living room is all it takes to spot Julius. He is indeed still sitting in his rocking chair with his back to Conrad and his front facing the big window; curtains pulled back to let the light and warmth in.  
"Hey, Julius...how are you feeling?" Conrad asks, raising his voice a little so Julius can hear him.  
"Ah, ciao Conrad..." Julius happily greets with a slightly weak chuckle to accompany the greeting.

"Don't strain yourself, I'll be over there in a second. The Braginsky's wanted to give you some of their leftover soup, so I'll put this pot in the kitchen for you." Conrad ushers, putting on a warm and comforting smile for his friend.  
"Grazie." Julius thanks, followed by a cough that he semi-covers with his fist.

"Hng..."

Julius looks down in his lap.  
Two sleeping newborns lay face down, and one of them just unhappily groaned in their sleep.  
Each has a curl that stretches out to one side of their head. They both have brown hair, but one has a darker shade than the other; one being akin to dark chocolate and the other being similar to a ginger powder. The two wear matching outfits: Pure white long-sleeved gowns. While they look elegant and cute, it comes off as inexpensive as well.  
"S-scusami boys..." Julius apologises to the two for coughing, gently stroking their heads.

The one that groaned - the darker haired one - rolls over onto his back and rubs his sleepy green eyes, followed by a yawn.  
"Aw, did I wake you Lovino?" Julius picks up the dark-haired Lovino, with a curl that swings slightly off to the right of his face. He still looks rather tired with his greeny-brown eyes not seeming to focus on anything and instead they droop down.  
Julius pulls Lovino into his chest and gently ruffles his hair as he begins to slowly rock his chair back and forth. "At least your brother Feliciano is still asleep...let's hope he stays like that for a little longer."

From a distance, Julius didn't look as if there was anything wrong with him. But upon closer inspection, you could see that he didn't have a healthy glow and if you knew him from before his illness it was easy to tell he had lost a lot of his energy and strength, his voice was also slowly starting to get a little raspy.  
One more detail that gives it away: his eyes. They were rather dull in colour - what was once a clear dark surface that reflected moonlight like a mirror was now a fogged up lens that needed cleaning.

Conrad finally walks back into the room and right up to Julius, admiring the two children on Julius and looking at them with a warm smile. "You think they'll like playing with my boy Ludwig? I believe he's just about old enough for playdates now..." Conrad tries to strike up a quick and friendly conversation.  
"S-si. I hope Lovino doesn't play rough o-or anything." Julius replies with a raspy chuckle, barely able to hold back a coughing fit as he tilts his head diagonally upward so he can look his friend in the face.  
Conrad smiles at Julius but also shows concern for his deteriorating health by staring back at his friend with a worried look. He nervously coughs himself before striking up another quick conversation. "Before I go off, do you need anything done?" He asks.

Julius' head sinks back into the position it was in before, now staring back out the window. "The crops need watering...could you...get Francis and Antonio to do that for me p-please? Maybe your boy Gil could help them ou-"  
"Gilbert?" Conrad cuts Julius off, almost shocked by that suggestion. "That boy destroys everything he touches unless it's soft or cute...I'll just take him home." He responds instead.  
"Well, alright then..." Julius responds with a soft but not disappointed sigh, then closing his eyes to bathe in the warmth of the sun's rays that crash through the window. "I'll see you later."  
"...ja, see you later Julius."

And with that, Conrad exits the house.

The three children are still playing with a ball, but it's a different one from the one they were playing with a little earlier. Gilbert then kicks said ball far off into the village.  
"GIL!" Francis clenches his fists and shakes them slightly. "Now we only have one ball left, and that's only counting the ones we can use...the rest are on the roof!"  
Gilbert scoffs, folding his arms and cheekily winking. "You can just have Antonio climb on the roof like last time-"  
"Gil, I sprained my ankle upon landing back down..." Antonio whines back at him, pulling his pants back up as they're beginning to slip down.  
"We have ONE more...I'll go get it..." Francis sighs, flicking his hair as he goes to walk off.

"Well, you're not going to be kicking another ball off into another yard young man."  
Gilbert flinches again upon hearing the demanding voice of his father.  
"Antonio and Francis have been ordered to water the crops on the farm, so you're coming home to spend time with your brothers." Conrad grabs Gilbert by the arm, ready to pull him away.  
"But Roderich isn't fun anymore!" Gilbert whines, thrashing his arms and legs about to try and release himself from the grip.  
Conrad rolls his head along with his eyes, a little annoyed now. "We're going now. Say goodbye."  
"Bis später guys!" Gilbert waves goodbye as Conrad begins to drag him back home.  
"Cya Gil!" Antonio returns the gesture by waving goodbye with a wide-swinging arm.

As Gilbert and Conrad walk out of view, Antonio's hands grip onto his hips as he lets out a quick sigh to exert some extra air. "The right thing to do is in fact water those baby crops...but that won't take too long so maybe we can have one last round with the ball?" He talks to himself.  
Francis soon walks back into Antonio's vision, holding a worn yet heavily inflated red ball, so it still looks good for playing around with.

"Ah, Francis! After this, we have to water the crops...I think. That's what Conrad said at least." Antonio is quick to alert Francis.  
Francis throws the ball in Antonio's direction. "Alright then. If it goes on the roof like the others or into the roads, then we finish."  
"That sounds fair. I'm ready to go!" Antonio catches the ball as it flies over his head, then planting it down on the ground under his dusty brown boot that barely passes above his ankle.  
In response, Francis grips the front corners of his dress and pulls them up to his knees, his brown knee-high boots now in complete view. "Loser will be doing laundry!" He pits.  
"You're on!" And with that, Antonio kicks the ball back at Francis.

Francis kicks it back while running into a new position to guard the ball from running off into the wide dirt paths.  
It easily reaches Antonio, who kicks it up to bounce it on his knee before kicking it back at Francis.  
Francis blocks the shot by headbutting it back at Antonio.  
Antonio quickly side-steps as the ball was sent back too fast for his reflexes. The ball smacks into one of the wooden pillars that keep the porch from collapsing. Some of the peeling white paint chips off of the pillar once the ball makes contact with it, the ball quickly falling back to the ground. Antonio kicks it in-between his feet to secure the ball before kicking it back at Francis.

The two kick it back and forth for a few minutes...

"What are you waiting for? Pass it here Antonio!"  
"Hope you're ready for my power shot Francis, YAH!"  
Antonio pulls back his leg, then launching it forward to send the ball in front of him flying.  
Francis looks in awe as the ball flies over him, and far beyond the dirt patch that is their front yard.

"Oh come on Antonio, that was our last ball! If Papa finds out…" Francis scolds his younger brother.  
"Can't you just ask around like last time we kicked a ball into another yard?" Antonio tries to argue back.  
Francis sighs. "Did you see how far it went? You kicked it all the way into the Bluebell Woods!"

Antonio suddenly realises his mistake. "Oh no…that's the cursed place where people don't come out if they go too deep, right?"

"Yep." Francis reluctantly confirms.

"Um, um…y-you can peer into it to see if it's at the entrance, right? I won't tell Papa! And I'll water the crops for a week if you do!" Antonio offers a deal since he doesn't look keen on losing that ball.  
Francis gives a sly smirk. "Well, if I don't have to wander too deep…deal. To make it a little fair, I'll do the laundry."

Pulling up his mud-brown boots to make sure they're a snug fit and brushing the dust off his dress, Francis begins to trek his way to the woods. The closer he gets, the less determined and cocky he becomes to go beyond the first trees, eventually halting before it.  
The trees stand tall, strong and proud. Nearby rocks are covered in moss, mushrooms grow, and the bluebell flowers seem to chime when stroked by the wind.  
"Just a few steps in…if the ball isn't in plain sight, turn back." Francis mutters, repeating the plan to himself.

One step in, the terrain below Francis' feet haven't changed.

Two steps in, the ground is getting softer.

Four steps in, short and squishy grass begins sprouting from the ground.

Eight steps in, the forest is getting thicker.

Twelve steps in, still no sign of the ball.

Francis softly chuckles. "Well, guess I should go back then…"  
Francis turns to leave, but the crunching of thick sticks make him turn back around.

"A-ah!"

A soft and scared voice sounds startled. The owner of the voice isn't anywhere to be seen, but the rustling of bushes and thumping of bare feet are more than enough to give chase.  
"H-hey, wait!" Francis calls out, picking up his dress as he begins to run. The deeper he runs into the forest, the harsher the environment gets.

Francis takes big steps over bushes and is careful to avoid anything that looks squishy and gooey on the floor. Unfortunately, this slows him down and he seemingly loses the startled one as he doesn't hear any rustling or even wildlife. Looking around, he can't even tell what way he came from.

"Papa is going to be so mad at me if he finds out I got lost in here...will I even make it out alive?" Francis asks himself. He stops in his tracks for a moment to look up.  
He doesn't see any sky, just thick leaves and branches. On occasion, he sees rays of light come raining through the gaps in the leaves that aren't sewn together like a protective blanket. He can't decide whether it's beautiful or a little frightening.

Turning his head back down in front of himself, Francis is about to take another step, a squeak comes from below his raised foot. He takes a second to look at the ground and sees nothing. "Eh? What was-ah!" Francis attempts to walk forwards anyway, but his dress has gotten caught on a branch that has extended too far from a bush. He takes a few steps back to lift the skirt up and away from the branch but it's easier said than done. The branch is rather clingy and doesn't want to let go. After going from gentle to forceful tugging, Francis frees himself from the grasp of the bush and stumbles forward, grabbing a proud-standing tree to readjust his footing.

When Francis looks forward once more-  
"A clearing..?"

The circular patch of light and fluffy green grass has a plentiful amount of rays from the sun. At the edge of the clearing, a broad and low stump is accompanied by smooth grey and flat rocks to surround it; the stump seems to have a toy tea set laid out. Scattered about the middle of the the clearing seems to be a simple mess of twigs of all shapes and sizes; thankfully they are just scattered in a loose pile and not all over the place. Aside from that, flowers and mushrooms are randomly sprouted to mark the border of the clearing, one of the said bluebells at Francis' feet.

"G-go away!"

Francis looks around; it's the same voice that was seemingly startled by him earlier. He still doesn't see the owner. Looking up at the leaves and the branches and down at the ground, no one appears to be around - aside from Francis himself.

Thinking he has nothing to lose, Francis steps over the border of mushrooms and bluebells and into the clearing.

"I SAID GO AWAY!"

Francis tenses up, quick to clasp his hands together and place them over his chest; feeling his heart slowly beat faster and faster. His teeth quietly chatter as his lips shake, a little scared to speak. He quickly decides to respond, but he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath to calm down.  
"I'm sorry whoever you are, but I've gotten lost looking for my ball that my brother kicked into these woods..."

Opening one eye, Francis doesn't see anything different, so he goes ahead and opens up both. There is still nothing out of the ordinary.

The one on the other end of the conversation doesn't seem to reply to Francis right away, but quiet mumbling can be heard.  
From a hollowed out tree with the inside completely covered by darkness, a small blonde child with a pointy black hat and green cape steps out of these said shadows, and going by the short styled hair they're likely male. He wears a dress-like garb that's creamy and looks a little worn as his primary clothing. His bare feet can be seen as his toes nervously grip the grass, this matches with how tight the grip his arms and hands are around a red ball. The young boy is averting his gaze as best he can, trying to look back at his tree or more likely his toy tea set.

"M-my ball! You found it!" Francis' face is removed of any frightened expressions as it now beams with joy, eyes twinkling almost like stars. "So getting lost wasn't for nothing!"

"Hold it..." The boy makes Francis pause his display of joy as he walks up to Francis. Not counting the hat, the boy his half the size of Francis. The boy looks up, the wide brim of his hat now unable to cover his emerald green eyes as they stare right at Francis' sapphire blue ones.  
"You're not...one of _them_ are you?" He asks, bringing one eye closer to Francis to try and give off an intimidating glare.

Francis looks back, rather confused. He slowly unclasps his hands so he can fold his arms and accompany it with a tilt of his head. "Who are 'them'?" He asks.

"...the...the Beeilllshmits or the Vargasas." The boy replies. "The fairies told me they burned my family." He goes back to looking away, shuffling his position around so he isn't parallel to Francis.

Francis takes a while to think about this, sort of ignoring the fairy comment. His father alongside Conrad had talked about a certain 'Kirkland incident' a few times over the past year, adding in commentary from his late mother mentioning about how it was wrong to burn and it was certain that this young boy was tied to that event in some way. What made it worse is that Francis himself was a Vargas, the eldest child of said family - not counting a miscarriage.  
He didn't want to frighten the boy or have the boy lash out at him, so he had to come up with a believable excuse and quick.

"No, I'm a Bonnefoy...Francis Bonnefoy." Francis semi-lies as he introduces himself.  
While his last name was Vargas, his mother's last name was Bonnefoy before marrying his father. It was the perfect cover-up.

The boy looks back up at Francis, shuffling back into position and now holding the ball up so Francis can take it.  
"...Arthur. Mine is Arthur." The boy says, referring to his name; not exactly stated but assumed to be his first.

Francis unfolds his arms and holds them out, gently grabbing the ball as Arthur lets go of it.

"So...can I trust you?" Arthur asks, swinging his hands behind his back. "You're not going to...tell anyone are you?"

Francis looks Arthur up and down once more. The getup he has is very similar to the fabled wizards and witches, those beings to be burned as soon as possible due to supposedly being beings of mass destruction via use of magic...but the child of what seems to be three years of age looks very harmless, and is likely living in the woods for a reason. If he were truly destructive, he would have gone out and killed everyone by now right?

Francis wraps his arms around the ball and bends his knees down so he matches Arthur's height more closely. "Of course, you can trust me. You want to stay hidden for a reason, don't you? It would be utterly rude of me to just blurt out this secret to others." Francis responds, a smile on his face that glows to add to it.

Arthur lets his stiff stance go, finally letting his shoulders relax and his toes let go of the grass. He takes a deep breath in before replying. "Thank you." He replies.

The two stare at each other in awkward silence for around five seconds.

"Now leave." Arthur requests.

Francis stands up straight and looks a little bit confused as well as sheepish. "There's a bit of a problem with that. I...don't know which way I came from." He admits with a nervous little chuckle. "Is it too much to ask that you escort me out of here?"  
"Wait...this whole thing isn't a trick is it?" Arthur folds his arms and bends forward a little bit. "You're trying to lure me out!"  
"N-no! That's not it at all!" Francis recoils by panicking a little bit. "You don't have to personally escort me, just point me to the way out if you want."

Gently swishing his hip to his right and tilting his head in the same direction, Arthur looks Francis up and down. "Fine. But don't come back after you leave."  
"...alright then Arthur." Francis reluctantly agrees.

Francis looks back at Arthur, with a bit of an upset glare. What he sees is a lonely yet untrusting child that really wants a friend, but he's too scared to get close to anyone. It's not in his nature, but Francis will have to turn his back on what he just said. He will be coming back tomorrow when he finds an opening in his schedule.

Arthur walks up to the border of the clearing and takes a seat using his knees. "Alright, lead him home."

Francis' face lights up with wonder as a trail of small blue flames light up one after the other, leading him off into the woods again.  
"So, I follow...those?"

Arthur nods, turning his head to look up at Francis. "Yes. The wisps should lead you out of here." He simply says, brushing off his clothes before getting to his feet once more. "Goodbye, Francis."  
"Arrivederci Arthur." Francis bounces a little on the spot, smiling at Arthur with a small, soft and warm smile; eyes gently twinkling. It takes him an extra second, but Francis skips over the border and begins to follow the flickering wisps.

"U-um, wait, Francis!"

"Hm?" Francis plants his feet down to stop moving forward and turns his upper body around to look back at Arthur.

Arthur stands there, unsure if to move. He eventually steps forward and lands on his knees so his face is right against a nearby bluebell. Digging his hands into the soft dirt around the flower, he then pulls the flower - and soil - out of the ground. Getting to his feet once more, he jogs over to Francis and holds the flower up to Francis. "The...the fairies said I should at least give you a...souvenir. Now you don't have to come back and get a flower so if you do come back you can't use that as an excuse." Arthur huffs, averting his gaze again.  
Francis holds out his left hand and gently grabs the clump of dirt with a secure grip, making sure it's enough to hold on but not too much so the clump of dirt will crumble.

"Grazie Arthur. I'll take good care of this flower." Francis replies, almost humming. He turns back around and continues to follow the path of wisps, soon escaping Arthur's vision.

After a trek that felt like it took hours, Francis is welcomed back to town by the sun pouring the light down upon him and the wind kissing his cheeks. Aside from that, no one is actually there to greet Francis, not even his brother Antonio.  
Now able to pick up some speed, Francis runs at a rather slow speed back to his old house that's way overdue for a makeover. On the porch sits a now rather exhausted, a little dirty and worried Antonio.

"Antonio, I got the ball!" Francis greets.  
Antonio's drooped head perks up and he runs right over to Francis with a relieved smile, almost crying with what looks like joy. "You're okay! When you didn't come out almost right away, you had me worried. You didn't go in too deep did you?"  
"If I did, I wouldn't have come out now would I?" Francis replies by bringing up a point. "And see? I'm completely fine." He then holds the ball out to Antonio. "Put this back, will you? I'm going to see if we have any spare pots so I can plant this beautiful flower..."

Antonio grabs the ball and watches Francis walk off, almost nonchalantly. With a rather confused blink to go along with the tilt of a head, Antonio doesn't entirely understand why Francis didn't come back scared or gasping for air. The Bluebell Woods were still cursed, right? For the moment, Antonio shakes the thought out of his head, going to put the ball back.


	3. I came to keep you company

"Good morning..." Francis yawns to himself. The rays from the morning sun shower Francis as they force their way through the window to the left of Francis; some rays caught by the potted bluebell sitting on the sill. He flutters his eyes open and looks up at the plain white wooden ceiling and focuses on the hole ripped in it since a wood tile was half-ripped out. He wanted to laze around on his bed in just his puffy white underwear with his head rested on his pillow stuffed with feathers; his golden locks sprawled out all over it.  
But he knows he can't do that. With his father sick - and only getting sicker - and slightly younger brother taking the crops for at least a week, that leaves him with the housework.

Shuffling his body around and over to the edge of the bed, Francis lets gravity pull his feet down to the clean wooden floor and then he pushed his upper body off the bed so he was standing.

Looking over to his wooden desk with papers all over it up against the wall accompanied by a matching wooden chair with one of its legs with some tape around it. On the chair are his knee-high lace-up boots as well was plain white socks that are of an average length that goes above the ankle.  
He slowly walks over to the chair and put his right foot up on it, then reaching for and grabbing one. Rolling it up first, he pokes his toes into the small space of the sock not rolled up and then begins to unroll it so it coats his entire foot, ankles but no further beyond the base of the leg. He then grabs the corresponding boot and sticks his foot out forward so it slides into the boot, going back to laying his foot flat by the time he hits the insole of the shoe. His sock allows his foot to glide to the end of the boot, allowing for a snug fit. The laces' starting point is when the boot starts to cover up the leg; rather than the foot, and end when the boot ends. Francis tugs on the rather loose and worn laces and they spit off some dust as they stroke up against the holes they are pulled through. Once the grip around his leg feels secure, Francis ties the laces up with a single-loop method by crossing two make-shift loops together then pushing one of these said loops through it. Putting his boot down, he now lifts up his bare foot to repeat the process with it.

When both his shoes are on, he stomps over to his plain wooden closet that is almost three times his current height. Pulling the doors open, the contents of the wardrobe are 5 wooden coat hangers with nothing on them, and another 4 with clothes of them. One piece of clothing seems to be a proper button-up shirt that used to be white, but turned a soft brown over some years. Another one is some baggy blue pants, rolled up towards the bottom and stained with all kinds of things; mostly mud and dirt. The final manly-esque item of clothing in the wardrobe is a pair of plain dusty brown shorts; they look a little old but barely used.  
Then there is his blue dress.  
The sleeves widen out past the Golden 'bangle' that marks where the elbow goes. Around the edges of the neck, end of the sleeves and the bottom of the dress are lined with a single golden ribbon; said ribbon having a faint, wide zig-zag pattern on it.

Francis takes the coat hanger that holds his dress, then shakes it out of the dress before hanging it back up.

Holding the dress above himself, he then pulls it down and shoves his arms through the sleeves before poking his head through the other side. He brushes down his dress afterwards so it's flat.  
Running his hand through his hair like a comb, pulling out knotted and loose hairs then clumping the amount of them into a small ball and finally throwing it in a metal bucket placed in the corner of the room - right next to the door - Francis is now ready to face the day.

"Oh! I must water the flower Arthur gave me!" Francis suddenly realises, fluffing up his hair before pulling open his bedroom door to exit out into the hall and run down into the kitchen, which is through an open doorway that connects to the living room. In the middle of the kitchen and away from all the benches is a wooden table with 4 matching chairs. The table and chairs are plain with no cloth to cover the table. Although there are a few empty bowls and cups on the table. "Oh yes, I should wash those..."

Getting closer to the table, Francis sees less and less of what's on the top of it. Once the top of his table and the top of his head are aligned to be the same height, he crawls onto the nearest chair, of course holding his dress outward so he doesn't rip it or crumple it.  
When standing on the chair, he does his best to reach for all the dishes. He grabs most of them but decides that he has to get atop the table to grab the rest of them.  
When all of the bowls and cups are in his possession, he stands on the chair to stack them neatly and scoops them up into one of his arms once he's done.

Jumping down back onto the floor, Francis runs back through the doorway and turns to run down the hall and outside onto the porch and quickly turns to run around to the back.

The backyard is one huge farm. Lines of saplings with wooden poles stuck in the ground next to them. To water all of these, there is a water pump, a bucket and three watering cans, two being in used but fairly good condition with a smooth metallic shine to them and the other one has splotches of rust around the base of it.

Francis gently places the bowls in the bucket, then the cups follow. He takes a moment to stare at the bucket before picking it up and almost dragging it over to below the water pump.  
Francis then stomps around and grabs the handle of the pump, starting to push up and down on it to pump the water out and into the bucket. After a few pumps, water starts pouring out of the pipe and into the bucket. It doesn't take much water to fill the bucket and thus causes Francis to stop pumping. Instead of running off to grab a cloth or scrub brush, Francis instead grabs one of the cups, scoops up some of the water so it's at least half-full and then grabs the front of his dress to hold it up while he runs back inside.

Back through the hallways and then turning into his bedroom, he slows down as he approaches his window.  
"Pretty little bluebell, here's your water for the day!" Francis hums. His free hand grips onto the sill and he pushes himself up with the tip of his boots and holds the cup above the potted flower, then turning his wrist so the water in the cup falls into the soil that's in the pot. As if the water takes immediate effect, Francis can just about see the bluebell glow with joy.  
With that, Francis plants his feet back on the ground completely and walks off, taking a detour back to the kitchen to get a scrub brush and washcloth for the dishes; which he grabbed from atop the kitchen bench.

Running back outside to the backyard, he runs back to the bucket of dishes. With a gentle sigh, he pulls out one of the bowls and begins scrubbing it; inside and out.

"Oh, there you are Francis! You're up early!"

The familiar voice belongs to Antonio, with Francis turning his head around to look at his slightly younger brother.  
"Ah, morning fratello." Francis happily greets with a beaming smile. "Here to water the crops right? I'll move the dishes."

Francis temporarily places the scrub brush and washcloth in the now clean bowl; holding said bowl in one hand. With his other, he grabs onto the handle of the bucket and drags it out from underneath the pump. Once out of the way, Antonio grabs one of the watering cans and puts it below the pipe, ready to fill it with water.

Francis then pulls out the brush and cloth from the bowl. "Now that this one is clean..." He looks around for a just-as-clean surface to put the bowl down on. He softly laughs at himself before sighing after a while. He decides to crouch down next to the bucket and simply scrub the bowls then place them in the lap made by his dress. As he cleans each bowl, he stacks them until all bowls are considered clean.  
"Well, looks as if I'll have to put these bowls away and come back to clean these cups." Francis huffs a little bit, picking up the bowls into the grasp of his arms. Once he can stand up without dropping any bowls, he does just that before making his way back to the kitchen to put the bowls away...or in this case, back on the kitchen benches.

Before Francis runs back outside, he begins to hear rather high-pitched cries coming from his father's bedroom.  
"That crying must mean the twins are awake..."

Instead of hoping his father wakes up to take care of it, Francis enters the bedroom.  
A king-sized bed with a brown blanket half-sunk to the ground is where Julius lies rather deeply in slumber. Despite looking well rested, one can easily spot soft bags under his eyes, not to mention his whole appearance just seemed like a mess; even if his hair were brushed, he would still look dreadful. Julius was wearing a white shirt that had a rustic red checkered pattern on it, and from the looks of it, he still had pants on as well. The likely scenario is that he was just that tired so he crashed into bed as-is.  
Despite having sprawled himself out on the bed diagonally to cover most of the area, the bed looked as if it was missing someone...

Turning attention away from the main bed, two plain wooden cots - one looking like a well-used hand-me-down and the other looking new and albeit borrowed from someone else - placed end to end from each other. The older one houses the loudly crying Lovino, the other one with Feliciano; still crying, just not as loud as his twin brother.

"Don't cry fratellini!" Francis tries reassuring his baby brothers as he pushes down the sides of the crib in preparation to pick them up. "Your big brother Francis is right here!" As these words come out of his mouth, he reaches for Lovino, lovingly wrapping his arms around the crying child before shuffling the grasp into a one-arm grasp to pick up Feliciano.

He gently bounces in place in hopes to relax his younger brothers. It works, but rather slowly.  
To speed up the process, he tries humming a melody that simply springs into his head at that moment. Once the twins have gone from loud crying to rather happy babbles, Francis sighs with a bit of delight before placing his brothers back into their respective cribs. "Papa will wake up eventually; then you can play with your toys. I have to do something today." He tells the two before turning around to exit the room and the house once again.

Back outside, Francis bends down next to the bucket once more, beginning to scrub the cups clean. This doesn't take as long as the bowls, considering there is less area to clean and there being fewer cups. When finished with those, he repeats the process of running back to the kitchen and putting them on the benches.

"Is that everything? Nothing else needs cleaning does it, and Toni is watering the saplings..." After tapping his cheek gently and shifting his gaze from side to side, he comes to the conclusion he now has free time for the rest of the day. With a gentle nod - closing his eyes as he giggles - Francis decides to make his way back into the woods. "Yep, I'm done!"

Down the dirt road, running while holding his dress up high as he sprints, Francis passes by houses. Most of his neighbours don't seem to be outside, as there is one else rises early to cater to a farm.  
Both his hair and dress flutters through the weak wind made seemingly stronger by running against it.

Eventually, a dusty dirt road turns into a much softer dirt path and the grass that surrounds it becomes a lot more lush and thicker to go along with the sprinkles of mushrooms and mossy rocks.  
Looking into the thick of the forest, Francis stops before it for a brief moment.  
"So, all I have to do is get lost, and I'll find my way to Arthur, right?" He murmurs the plan to himself, tightening the clutch on his dress by a little.  
Francis nods to himself before taking the first steps into the thicker part of the woods, instead of following the path laid out for him.

Bushes tried to grab Francis' dress just like yesterday, so Francis decided to lift his dress high up by grabbing all around the rim of his dress making sure not to make the grip too tight as to wrinkle it, before lifting the dress up high to better show off his puffy underwear that only stops right above his knees, his boots covering all but his knees.  
He keeps a close eye on potential obstacles in front of him such as slippery-looking rocks and tree branches too low for anyone's liking.  
Luckily, Francis was getting a small feeling of déjà vu after a while of stepping around bushes and ducking under branches so he at least thinks he's getting closer to the clearing.

"This branch feels familiar...wait, what's it-" Francis looks up at a branch located just above his height and jumps back in a panic as it tries to swat him. With a quiet gasp, he stares at the branch with a rather shocked with a dash of terrified expression. "Did that branch...attempt to hit me?"  
Hearing a sort of rustling noise, Francis now looks down and around him. The thinner branches from the nearby bushes suddenly grow out and attempt to grab Francis' legs to trip him up.  
"Hey! Let go!" Francis cries, pulling his leg way. He then begins to break into a sprint to run from the suddenly attacking plant life.

Francis runs away from the branches but runs right into more trouble.  
He frantically looks both up and down, realising something a little bit too late...

He steps on a mushroom with a red top. Instead of crushing it as he steps on it, the force of his boot against the top of the mushroom bounces Francis forwards and upwards.  
"Ayieee!" Francis screams, finally letting go of his dress in hopes to grab onto a branch, but a few branches instead grab onto him, wrapping around his waist and legs. "Please don't kill me! I haven't turned seven yet!" He tries pleading all while he pulls his legs and tries to push himself out of the grasp of the branches. He attempts but to no avail, quickly exhausting himself which causes him to stop trying.

Suddenly, Francis hears soft footsteps from below him. He tilts his head down to see the producer of the footsteps...it's none other than the barefooted Arthur, in the same wizard attire from yesterday. There is seemingly no expression on his face, but the blank and unamused look clearly hides anger.  
Looking back up at Francis first, Arthur lets out words of displeasure.

"I told you not to come back."

Francis tries his best to smile innocently but bows his head down as if he's disappointed with himself. "Si, I know that..." He reluctantly admits. "But I promise I have a reason."  
"Spit it out then." Arthur folds his arms, still keeping his eyes on Francis.

"...I wanted to keep you company for the day."

Arthur's eyes widen in both shock and confusion.  
"Why...why would you want to do something like that?" Arthur then whips out a stick that gets thinner the longer it reaches, eventually ending with a blunt tip. The stick is a little crooked like an actual branch but seems to have been smoothed out. The length of this stick seems to be about as long, if not longer than Arthur's already rather short arm - due to his young age of course.  
"I can get rid of you with a zap of this wand. You'll become a tree like all the others that have tried to lure me out and...and..." The stern and angry look on Arthur's face slowly softens as he sees how Francis' gentle expression and lack of attempt to break free from the bind he is in.  
"...and?" Francis simply asks.

Arthur doesn't reply, lowering his head and shifting it off to the side. With a soft flick of his wrist followed by making a figure-eight shape with his wand. The branches holding Francis stretch themselves down to the ground before letting go of Francis. They then rise back up and withdraw to take their original positions.

Francis looks up as the branches retract back to their original positions, clearly amazed.  
"Woah, how did you do that?" Francis can't help but ask.

Arthur doesn't look Francis in the eyes, yet alone lifts his head to look in Francis' direction, but he replies anyway as he softly wraps his other hand around the stick he holds.  
"Please don't turn me in. I don't wanna burn..."

With a confused blink, Francis takes a single step closer to Arthur. "Burn? Why would you burn? And turn you into who?"

Arthur shifts his eyes and lifts his head back up to look at Francis again, eyes glittering but not with joy or wonder.  
"Well, I..." Arthur loses his focus on Francis rather easily, looking back down at the ground then flicking his stare back up again. "F-follow me inside first...please." He then turns around, facing the hollowed out tree so his back - or rather his flowing cape - is what Francis has to stare at.  
Francis nodded despite Arthur not being able to see him; he then began to follow Arthur inside the hollowed out tree.

The soft grass is the floor of the rather home-like tree. Up against the back of the 'wall' lies a wooden bed that seems to have a mattress made entirely of wool, just a pile of wool. The blanket is a fine patchwork blanket, taking all kinds of spare bits of fabrics of all shapes, colours and types; probably not the warmest blanket but it probably gets the job done.  
Across the wall is a small bookshelf that looks as if it could crumble rather quickly if too much weight is stacked on it. On it, there are about three books and a toy doll, all objects varied in age with the doll surprisingly looking as if it was the oldest item out of the bunch; stained by mud and over-played with over many years.  
The final piece of furniture is a rickety flat & circular table with one leg having to be balanced with the others with the use of a stone. There is a single matching stool, thankfully all three of its legs are of equal length and don't need any support for balance.  
The final and easily missable detail is that right above the entrance is a curtain made of bark that can seemingly be raised and lowered with the help of pulling a string. This is probably for protection against weather as well as to fool adults that happen to get lost.

Arthur makes his way to the lone stool next to the table and sits on it. He nudges his head forward to signal Francis to sit on the other side of the table. Francis abides by the request, holding his skirt up before bringing his legs and knees down to the grass before sitting down completely, hands resting in his lap as he stares forward at Arthur and is all ears.

Arthur leans his head out to his left side for a few seconds before nodding and brushing his hair back into place. He takes a quick breath before speaking. "It's impossible to hide it from you. I'm a wizard; from a rather long line of them too." Arthur begins, starting to wring his hands and occasionally looking down at them before going back to solid eye contact with Francis.  
"Around a year ago, I was brought here to safety by my older brother Alister...he said goodbye and didn't come back to retrieve me." He takes a pause to suck up some forming tears and forces down some hiccup-like sobs. "He joined the rest of my family at the stake. The fairies said it's all the Varagases and Bellsmits fault they're gone forever...and if they catch me then I'll join my family."

So that was the Kirkland incident. The burning of a magical family.

No one really knew the Kirkland's very well. They were situated in the village from the very beginning and refused to move out when the expansion started, so the town was simply built around them; at least it was easy to do it neatly, houses aligned very well.

"That sounds absolutely awful...I'm sorry such a thing has happened." Francis is all the words of sympathy he can bring forth without showing signs of being teary. "My family is in a pretty bad situation as it is, I wouldn't want anyone to go behind my back and make it worse for me." He starts up a new sentence. "So you can trust me. I won't tell a soul that you live here Arthur."

Arthur's glare softens, and he lets the rest of his body relax. With a quiet giggle, Arthur finally gives Francis a tiny and gentle smile. "Thank you, Francis. You're such a sweet girl, and person in general. I should repay you for this one day."

"...girl?"

Despite Francis being very flattered, he is utterly baffled as to why Arthur just said that he was a girl. Sure he was wearing a dress because he had nothing else to wear that was fashionable but aside from that did he really look like a girl? Was his voice too high-pitched and soft for his age? Was his silky smooth hair way too long? These questions floated around Francis' head for a quick bit before focusing on Arthur and ready to hear a reply.

"...hm? You are a girl aren't you?" Arthur asks, his eyebrows scrunch up to make him look a little confused as well as a dash of being upset. "Your long hair, soft voice and dress..."

Francis' thoughts had been confirmed within seconds. At least he could understand why Arthur thought he was a girl. But to avoid tricking the boy later in life, it was best the truth come out now.  
"Now that you bring it up, I do look like one don't I?" Francis brings himself to giggle softly. "I like to grow my hair long, and these are the only clothes that fit me right now; they belonged to my mother when she was my age." Putting on a bright smile as to not scare or intimidate the younger boy, France then stands up and dusts his dress off before performing a twirl. The dress flutters up, and his luscious locks flick themselves about as they see fit.

Arthur looks in a bit of wonder as Francis twirls. He doesn't seem any more confused or in any realm of disbelief but doesn't seem to entirely believe Francis as of yet. "Alright then...now, you wanted to keep me company, you said?" Arthur does his best to change conversation topics, as he can't find anything to string off of.  
Francis' stare locks back on to Arthur as he stops spinning. "Yes, I did! Isn't it awfully lonely out here?"  
"Well, not really. The fairies look after me; I have bunnies to keep me company and Mr Troll is ready to back me up if entirely necessary." Arthur then points to an empty spot on the wall; nothing appears to be there.  
Francis stares at the spot that Arthur points at. He feels as if he should see something but obviously fails to. "Um..." Is all Francis can use as a reply.

"What? He's right there. Can't you see him?" Arthur now puts on a rather baffled tone and pushes himself off the chair and back onto the soft ground.  
"No, I can't see him...sorry." Francis sighs a little bit, letting his hands flop in his front.

Arthur squints a little at Francis before he turns his sights upwards.  
"What do you mean it's normal?" Arthur asks what looks like thin air to an ordinary observer. With a bit of a sigh soon following Arthur's comment, he whips his gaze back in the direction of Francis before taking slow steps towards him.  
"Well, I must admit I haven't had human company in a while..." Arthur reluctantly spits out. "Playing with the flying bunnies of the forest can get boring if it's all you do."  
"Flying bunnies?" Francis softly chuckles. "I'd do anything to see that!"

Arthur huffs and looks off to the side. "Yeah, I assume one like you would..." With a fold of the arms, Arthur looks back again. "So um...company..."

"Oh, right!" Francis giggles and looks back outside. "I saw that you had a tea set...perhaps we can have tea time?" He asks with a slight bounce of his shoulders.  
Arthur's face lights up, in a little bit of surprise. "You want to have tea with me?"  
"Of course!" Francis replies with a happy hum. His shimmering blue eyes give a wide and excited look at Arthur. "Having tea with you sounds like a wonderful time, Arthur."

Arthur still can't seem to entirely process the fact that another human wants to simply 'hang out' with him, instead of the more obvious though which would be to bring him back to the village for some kind of reward or title. Despite the safe feeling, he can't help but think that Francis will change his thoughts later in life so it's not a good idea to get _attached_.

"Well, aren't you going to treat your guest?" Francis teases with a soft giggle, raising his now clenched hand to push his chin up a little.  
Arthur freezes for a split second before quickly finding himself and nodding at a rapid rate. "Of course!" He says, jumping a little. He stomps forward, breaking into a half sprint before he's outside and Francis steps to the side to give room to the speeding wizard before following him.

As Arthur approaches his tree stump table, he pulls out his wand again. With a gentle thrust in the direction of the tea set, it begins to sparkle, and it is then lifted into the air. "I just need to wash this; I'll be right back-"  
"I can accompany you!"

Francis speeds up to be at Arthur's side, looking down at the younger child. His smile is wide and bright, and his eyes now give an eager look.  
"I'll be fine by myself!" Arthur tries to insist with a huff and a puff up of the cheeks.  
"I'm pretty sure you will but...where's the fun in going alone?"

Arthur grumbles, the not-girl has a point; every trip on his lonesome has felt like a chore.

"And we can use it as a bonding experience...I can tell you about my life if you wish." Francis offers, grabbing a lock of his hair and beginning to twirl it.  
Looking up at the older blonde, Arthur lets out a rather forced sigh. "Okay then, I guess you could." He says as a bit of a mumble. "Follow me."

Arthur begins walking into the thick of the woods. Francis responds by picking up his dress and following Arthur by walking by his side. Looking around at this part of the forest, the trees seem much bigger, and all the bushes are thicker and look more lush; leaves thicker and juicier looking too. The ground he walks on is a little worn as seen by the shorter grass and there being more dirt than grass; the dirt being a dark colour and rather soft.

As Arthur uses his magic to drag the tea set along in the air, he looks up at Francis. "So?"

"Oh right, life!" Francis giggles a little. He takes a quick breath before he starts to talk.

"I'm the eldest child of my family. Originally my parents thought I was born ill because I came out blonde when they both have brown hair. While it's true I'm not very physically strong when compared to Toni or Gil; I don't think it's because of my hair..." Francis has one hand let go of his dress and uses it to twirl his lock of hair again. "Ah, speaking of Toni, he's my younger brother by about a year. Then my little fratellini are Feliciano and Lovino; Mama died soon after they were born..." Francis' smile droops by just a small bit, but Arthur is still able to notice the decrease in mood and acknowledges it by frowning a little. Francis keeps his voice on pause, and his face recoils a little bit with pity. "I'm just glad we didn't lose all three of them...even losing just one family member is an awful feeling, I can only imagine how it's like losing much more..." Francis's stare softens immensely as he lets go of his lock of hair and lowers his arm.

"I get it, you're sorry for me. You can stop that now!" Arthur almost yells, a little upset.  
Francis flinches back a little bit, still keeping eye contact. "...I'm sorry, two and two just go together. But I hope you know I am sorry for what happened; I wish I could have done something..." With a gentle sigh, Francis is quick to continue his speech.

"We own a farm. Since spring is now here, we've planted a bunch of seedlings. That day tired Papa out, and he hasn't had the energy to do much since then. I'm sure he will perk back up in a few more days; he always does...even though the day count keeps getting longer." Francis tries to let out a soft giggle so he doesn't get too depressing. "He will get over this illness he has though, I know it. It's just a matter of time." He says as if to remind himself. Arthur in turn to this gives a worried and confused look.  
"Now, where was I? Oh yes, the farm! We're going to try growing a new crop this year. Hope we get a lot out of it. We really need it right now." Francis continues talking as they continue walking. "Maybe if we have extra I can give you a taste when they're ripe." Francis is now smiling again thanks to the thought.

Francis suddenly feels the earth beneath his boots become more rocky and solid compared to the dirt he was walking on before. Looking down beneath his boots, he now walks on a mix of stones and pebbles, coating a rocky surface.

"Here we are. The spring." Arthur trots up to the edge of the rather small spring, looking no bigger than Francis' front yard. The small river that gives it the sparkling water it has is very thin - at least not looking at it up close. Arthur gently dunks the tea set in the water by guiding it with the use of his wand.

"Ah, this is even prettier than the lake in the village." Francis clasps his hands together as he admires the rays of the sun bouncing off the gently rippling surface of the water.  
"Of course it is. This pool of water has a touch of magic to it..." Arthur releases the tea set from the water after a short soak. It shines as the light touches it. Hovering it over the solid ground, Arthur tips the set over, and the water pours out, he then dunks the set in again and pulls it back up. "There, now we can have some tea! Let's head back."

Francis continues to stare at the sparkling water. "This feels like the perfect place to relax...I think I know what I'll bring tomorrow!"  
Arthur just stares back at Francis, both unamused and confused as to what he means.  
"Oh, never mind...let's just head back." Francis gently shakes his head to shake away the subject, beginning to walk back and is promptly followed by Arthur; speed-walking to keep by Francis' side.

"You're going to enjoy this tea. After this, you won't wish for any other tea!" Arthur proudly remarks, attempting to continue their conversation.  
"Well, I don't think my family could ask for such a luxury right now anyway...maybe after the harvest if we're lucky." Francis can't help but reply with a rather upsetting one.  
"...why not?" Arthur brings himself to ask.  
"Ah, our crops last fall dropped in overall quality, so we got less money for them. It's because Papa was getting too ill for work and Mama was a little too pregnant to work at that point. Then once Mama passed we had to pay for some land to bury her, and we barely had enough for that after winter...and to think we were doing so well up until then." Francis answers, humming to a rather happy sounding tune as he does despite the depressing information; to keep his spirits up.

The two soon approach the clearing once more, Arthur speeding up to get over to the tree stump table before Francis to place the tea set down and take a seat. Francis was going to stop walking towards it to give Arthur time to set up, but he decides he doesn't have to and continues walking up to take a place on one of the flat rocks that surround the stump.

Arthur opens the lid of his teapot - with the pot looking as if it's made of a type of shining silver metal, and compared to the cups everything looks very mismatched as if all foraged from different corners of the world. The pot itself is still that round shape with a curvy handle one would imagine. He holds out his free hand, and a few small green leaves float over into the palm of it. He places the leaves in the teapot then sticks the tip of his wand into it. He babbles what sounds like gibberish for a few seconds before pulling his wand back out and closing the lid.

"Tea time!" Arthur calls out.

Rustling from the bushes is both seen and heard, with about two bunnies being the result, possibly even more creatures in the eyes of Arthur. The two bunnies take a seat on the same rock to make use of space.  
With a happy nod after looking around the 'table', Arthur gently pushes out each cup toward each rock-seat, with Francis receiving a thin glass cup that didn't match the china-looking cups at all.  
Francis looked around, unsure if this was vivid imagination or something much more; leaning more toward it being something just beyond the realms of his plain vision.

"Looks like everyone is here!" Arthur happily plants his hands on the table and looks around at everyone. To the left of Francis sits a white unicorn with a golden horn and blue mane, to the right of himself sits a small deer that looks normal aside from its pure white colouring and how it seems to generate its own sparkles. Down on the far end of the table is what appears to be a fluffy pink cotton ball with thick leaves for wings. There are other creatures that range from sensible to arguably silly in design.

Francis looks around; he still can't see anything aside from that pair of fluffy black rabbits. Taking a quick sigh to simply exhale with a relaxing touch, Francis then raises his cup up slightly. "May I have some tea please?" He politely asks.  
Arthur looks at Francis and nods. Instead of using magic as an easy way out, he grabs the pot of tea - one fist wrapped around the handle and his other hand has the tips of the fingers lightly gripping onto the side of it. Taking the pot with him as he walks up to Francis - whom is two seats away from him - and holds the pot out to signal to Francis to grab his cup.  
It took a few slight air-nudges for Francis to get what Arthur was trying to do - which was lower his cup - but Francis happily obliged once he realised.  
Filling the glass cup by about fourth-fifths, Francis could only see plain water and a single leaf. Perhaps the idea of tea in the forest was too good to be true; despite magic supposedly being used.  
"Thank you!" Francis replies with a bright smile, playing along with what seemed to be a young boy's imagination at first glance but is likely something more magical; Francis still wasn't entirely convinced, as he was trying to convince himself the latter.

Arthur begins to walk around the stump table, filling up all the empty cups. Francis watches Arthur, and it becomes clear to him that despite how he acted much older when they met, he was still a child younger than himself. Taking a sip of the water, Francis is happy to be surprised at the fact that it does taste like actual herbal tea. Looking at his cup once more, all he sees is clear water and decides he simply doesn't have that magical lens.

Along with a soft chuckle, Francis shows off a warm and happy smile that could emit rays of light after drinking more of the tea. "This is amazing Arthur! I haven't had tea this good in ever!" He feels the need to compliment.  
Even though Arthur's response to that seems to be a happy one according to his grin, he chooses to act as if he doesn't buy the compliment. "You're only saying that because you haven't had tea in aaaages."  
"No no, I really mean it! I don't know how you did it but this tea...the flavour is amazing and isn't too hot on the tongue!" Francis further adds to his compliment. "I love it!"

"...really? Do you really REALLY mean it?"  
"Really really REALLY mean it!"

Francis' face with a wide smile and a gaze that refuses to look away from Arthur leaves the young wizard to accept the fact that the older blonde is being sincere.

"Well, if you like it that much I'll let you have some more if the others don't want anymore..." Arthur says then looking around the table. "Oh, are you done Polo? Would you like some more then?" Arthur suddenly runs up to one of the seats. "Oh, you don't want anymore? That's fine!"

Watching Arthur run around and talk to his magical forest friends sort of memorised Francis. Even though it was only a few years ago, it almost felt like decades since Francis could play around with play sets and toys. Arthur was free to play like this as long as he pleased, but Francis was tasked with caring for the farm daily with almost no time to play.

"May I have that refill now, please?" Francis asks as he holds his cup out.  
Arthur looks in his direction and glares for a bit. "...fine, only because you're a special guest here today! Don't get used to it if you keep coming back!" Arthur huffs as he picks up his feet to waddle over back to Francis' seat and refills Francis' glass by about half of what he had drunk. "Oh, it's all gone. I guess that means tea time is over..."  
Arthur then turns to face his guests. "Um, there's no more tea now! You may go!" He says, not trying to sound rude to his guests.

As the bushes rustle again to signal that the guests are going back into the woods, Arthur then looks up at Francis. "That also goes for you."

"Well, it doesn't mean I have to, now does it?"

Arthur puffs his cheeks up in mild annoyance; Francis isn't wrong about what he just said. "Well, what else could you possibly-HEY! PUT ME DOWN!" Francis had bent his knees down to get a proper reach around Arthur. While the grip around Arthur's waist was firm, it wasn't without some struggle, since Arthur is arguably heavier than either a hoe or full watering can.  
Before Arthur can protest further by flailing his legs about much harder than he already is, Francis pulls him into a hug-like hold with one arm supporting Arthur's legs and the other arm supporting his back.

"Are there any other main attractions of this forest Arthur? I'd love to see them." Francis asks as he tilts his gaze down at Arthur.

"If you really want to see one..." Arthur looks away from Francis but hands his hands cling to the fabric of Francis' dress so he feels more secure while in the hold. "Um, go that way." Arthur signals a direction by gently nudging his head forward into a thick looking area of the forest. "I find a lot of cool stuff that way."  
"If you say so!" Francis jumps a bit with glee and giggles a little. He begins his trek through the uncharted pathway.

This section of the forest is more grassy with all the branches way up high with the trees. The grass is a deeper and thicker green, and despite no wind blowing at the moment, they walk there is a feeling that the wind often rolls through the path, dragging lost items to rest between the rocks and grass.

"It doesn't seem as bright as the path I took to the clearing...is this the only part of the forest like this?" Francis asks as he looks above for cracks in the leaves, but doesn't find any and thus no rays of light to pierce the green colour of what light there is this deep into the forest.  
"Sort of? I guess you could say that...this is the only 'lost item' part of the forest I've found." Arthur does his best to answer. "And the lost ends up in the dark cracks of anything, at least that's where people seem to find lost items most of the time."  
"Hehe, that actually makes some sense!" Francis giggles a little bit, looking around the ground to make sure he doesn't trip over anything tucked away in the grass. While keeping a lookout for objects, he notices something rather fluffy. "Huh? What's this?" He bends down and frees up one arm to rummage through the grass and pulls out a surprisingly clean and bright white spinning top. "Ah! I think Gilbert lost this earlier! He'll be relieved to see that it's still in one piece!"

"Haven't seen that item before. Must have recently rolled up here." Arthur brings himself to comment on it.  
"And when did you last check?" Francis can't help but ask, looking at Arthur's face once more.  
"A few days ago..." Arthur answers rather simply, tightening his grip on Francis' clothes so he doesn't fall out of the hold.

Looking behind himself, Francis sees a tall tree with two thick roots that spread out diagonally and eventually sink back into the ground. Combined with the soft grass that surrounds the tree, Francis takes a few steps back before collapsing his legs and spreading them out to rest under the tree; the landing being a little bumpy for Arthur.

With a quick little hum, Francis closes his eyes and loosens his grip around Arthur. "This grass does feel very soft..." He compliments with a slight happy purr. "This is probably what a cloud feels like."  
Arthur ultimately gets rid of his grip on Francis' clothes and slowly sinks down into Francis' lap. In response, Francis simply cups his arms around Arthur and pulls him a little more, but Arthur keeps struggling against it as if his head rests uncomfortably.  
Looking down at Arthur and tilting his head right against his left shoulder, Francis lifts one arm up and pinches the tip of Arthur's hat and slowly lifts it off his head slowly.

"Hey! What are you doing?! That's my hat!" Arthur pouts, holding his hands up high and attempting to jump to reach the hat but doesn't end up jumping and instead ends up bobbing a short distance upwards while his arms flail about.  
"Well, the wide brim of this had looked as if it was making it harder for you to relax...try now." Francis explains himself, lifting his head back up and deciding to lower the hat onto himself. To his surprise, the hat grows in size to comfortably wrap around his head. "And I can't seem to blame you for being uncomfortable with the hat on, looks like the only way you can wear it is like this!" Francis adds, with a bit of a soft giggle thrown in after.  
"Hey! Take it off!" Arthur lets out one last pout before lowering his arms in defeat and sinking back into the lap of Francis, this time not squirming.

"See, isn't that better?" Francis happily hums as he looks down at the younger male. "Huh?" Francis almost recoils his head in what seems like surprise and confusion. "Your hair is so knotty...do you brush it properly? Here, I'll see what I can do."

Putting the spinning top to his side, Francis begins running the tips of his fingers along the top of Arthur's hair, gently digging down into it as he reaches the end of the hairs.  
Arthur suddenly lifts his arms up again in an attempt to swat away Francis' fingers. "Get your hands out of my hair! How do I know you're not going to pull on it?!" The young wizard pouts as he manages to smack one of Francis' hands.  
"But Arthur, it's full of knots. If I don't do something about this mess of hair soon-"  
"The fairies brush it with their small brushes! It's not knotty!" Arthur tries retaliating to defend his ground.  
With a gentle sigh, Francis simply continues gently running his fingers through Arthur's hair. "If anyone can take care of their hair properly, it's me." He responds as he begins to hum some more.  
Lowering his arms down in defeat once more, Arthur lets out a bit of a huff as he calms down again; now enjoying the feeling of fingers running through his hair. "Are you sure you're not a girl?" He just has to ask as the final question for the moment as it's followed by a quiet yawn.  
With a soft giggle to follow the question first, Francis does answer. "No, I'm not. Don't worry; I check every day."

With one more yawn, Arthur chooses to close his eyes. "A nap wouldn't hurt right about now..." He barely whispers into the wind before letting his body practically lay limp in Francis' lap.  
"Yes, I think I've gotten every knot that isn't stubborn...now I'll have to ask if I can-" Francis stops speaking as soon as he can here the quiet snores coming from Arthur's mouth. "Mmm, I guess this means it's time for me to head back. Papa probably needs me for something."

Gently picking up first the spinning top then Arthur - and just about wrapping him up in the baggy sleeves of his dress - he gets on his knees before pushing himself into a standing position. Looking around for the way they came, he is quick to go down the path that leads to a bright light and thankfully it does lead him back to the clearing. Entering the hollowed out tree that is Arthur's house then, Francis walks up to the bed and gently lays the sleeping Arthur on it.  
"Hope you're having sweet dreams, Arthur." He says in a gentle whisper.

Upon turning to leave, the blue flickers of fire appear before him, taking the role of bread crumbs to lead him home. "Ah, thank you." He says to the wisps quietly as to not wake Arthur. Picking up the fronts of his dress while the small spinning top is still in his first, he begins to build up into a jog of sorts that carries him along the pathway that the wisps lay out for him. In what feels like mere seconds he is out of the forest, and his eyes are focused on the houses that make up the village of Calton.  
"Ah, I'm home...thank you agai- oh. You're all already gone it seems." Francis laughs at himself a little as he drops the grip he has on his dress.

He lifts his foot to take another step but something stops him. "Wait, did I forget something?" Looking all over himself and patting himself down, he finally finds the thing that's wrong as he touches the brim of Arthur's hat. "Oh no, I forgot to take this off! Um...if I just put it here, he can come get it at night can't he?" Francis asks himself as he walks back into the forest a little bit before taking the hat off and placing it behind a bush. "No one can see it from the front right?" He asks himself as he backs up into the village once more. "Yes, that should be fine..."  
Looking back down at his fist, he sees the white spinning top and remembers why he picked it up in the first place. "Oh, that's right! I should give this back to Gil. Now, what excuse should I come up with when he asks where I found it...?" Francis asks himself as he begins to skip off.


	4. Børre

With the final light out, the village of Calton has gone to sleep.

The darkness that comes with the night coats each house as if it were a warm blanket but the full moon lights up the pathways to combat it. For at least a brief moment, the lack of noise and stillness of the night make it seem as if there's complete tranquillity...but with a sudden burst of a small orange light along with the sound of burning wood, it's completely destroyed. Despite the disturbance, the village does not wake up...but someone else does.

"Ahh, that was a nice nap...huh? Why is it already dark out?" Arthur lifts his head up and rubs his eyes. "Should I go back to sleep then...wait, something doesn't feel right."  
Pushing himself into a droopy sitting position, he quickly flops back into a laying position with his head slamming against the bed. It takes him a moment for him to realise the lack of an uncomfortable hat brim.  
"My hat! Where is it?! Oh, I bet Francis ran off with it. Now he's not allowed back here for sure! But...I would really like my hat back. If he realised he was wearing it, maybe he left it behind somewhere? I guess it's worth to have a quick check..." Arthur argues with himself for a quick moment, choosing to push himself off the bed and get running down the path to the village entrance to Calton.

Often stopping to peer in bushes for his hat, Arthur runs at a rather slow pace; getting more annoyed, upset and worried the more empty bushes he finds.

While checking a bush, the smell of burning wood that floats through the air on smoke brushes across Arthur's nostrils. His eyes widen, and his senses heighten as his hairs rise to stand on end.  
"F...fire..."  
Sharply turning his head in the direction of the smell and smoke, he simply stares for an entire second that feels much longer before running as fast as he can in that direction.

"If nothing is done about it, it could spread to the forest!" Arthur tells himself, trying to give himself a reason as to why he is approaching the one thing he fears the most.

Slowing down as he approached the entrance to the town, all he did was stop and stare ahead. The sight of a single burning the building. The entire roof was on fire with the source of the flames likely being a room up against the back wall, as that was completely alight as well. Fire bursts out of the windows and the house starts to slowly collapse; it looks as if the house is melting under the heat. He wanted to look away, but his eyes were attached to the sight.

Inside the house as wooden pillars keeping the ceiling up begin to fall, the loud crackling of wood and with the thuds of wooden clumps crashing to the floor was finally enough to wake up one of the house's inhabitants.  
"Ah!"  
Snapping awake in an instant, a boy with platinum blonde hair, rather pale skin and dull blue eyes pushes himself up to a sitting position on his bed. Looking around frantically, he sees his house is alight, with the wall on the opposite end of his bed already set alight.  
Smoothing out his hair to the right side of his face and jumping out of bed, he grabs the blue coat on the end of his bed and slips one arm in before running over to the cot that's placed closer to the wall coated in flames. There's a sleeping child inside the cot, matching skin tone to the older child, soft white hair and dressed in a plain yellow baby onesie.

"Emil!" The older child coughs, pulling the side of the cot down so he can grab the sleeping infant. Just barely managing to pull the infant into his arms, the older child - no older than Arthur - attempts to run to safety, first step being to run through the doorway of the bedroom and into the hall.

"H-hold on Emil! I'm gonna-" The older boy stops talking because of a sudden cough due to the smoke, lifting one arm up to cover his mouth as he does so. This causes his grip on Emil to slip and he suddenly tries bumping Emil up with his knee but this only causes him to trip and fall onto the floor of the hallway, the fire right behind him.

Emil doesn't react to falling at all, seeming to remain in a deep slumber.  
"E-Emil!" The older boy says with a cough once more, crawling over to him. He tries nudging Emil at first and expects some kind of reacting, but there's nothing. Not even an attempted breath for air.  
"...Emil?" Suddenly, the boy's mood saddens. Gently placing his hand on his brother's chest, he doesn't feel anything. Not even a heartbeat.

The lack of reaction registers immediately. The boy's eyes well up with tears and he bows his head down. "Emil..." He croaks silently.  
He then lifts his head up and lets out a loud wail into the sky, having lost almost all will to drag himself out of the house now.

The loud wail was just loud enough for Arthur to hear through the crackling flames.  
"There's someone still alive in there!"  
Arthur stares at the flaming house. If it is possible to save the one that cried for help, then he should, he wasn't going to let an innocent person painfully burn to death when they didn't deserve to. Not taking a second thought, Arthur quickly looks around to make sure he's not forgetting anything. He then spots his hat by the side of a bush, as he begins to run to the burning house, he scoops up his hat and twists it onto his head. He pulls out his wand from seemingly nowhere as he gets closer to the house. Once he gets close enough, he swings his wand and blows the door to smithereens, allowing him to enter the house without any effort.

"Hello?!" Arthur tries calling out, running about the house, avoiding the flaming walls.  
"Someone there?" The boy calls back, lifting his head up and looking around to see who just spoke. The answer soon walks around the corner.

Upon seeing the other boy, Arthur runs up to him and quickly grabs his hand. "Are you alright?"  
The other boy doesn't seem able to reply with a straight answer, coughing and pointing at the fire behind him before speaking. "My parent's bedroom is down there, I'm sure it's too late for them. My brother Emil here...I think he suffocated in his sleep..." He says, almost choking.  
Looking down at the seemingly dead infant, Arthur gently picks him up with his free arm and tosses him over the shoulder. "There's still a clear path, I'm getting you both out, alive or not. No more people deserve to turn to ash."

With a desperate nod of approval from the other boy, Arthur begins running back to where he entered the burning building.  
"Watch out, the ceiling-!" The boy warns, pointing up and ahead.  
"Ah!" Quickly sidestepping to avoid an incoming pile of the ceiling, barely dodging the flaming pile. Turning the corner the exit is in sight. "Come on, just keep running, we can make it!"

A loud crack comes from directly above them. The ceiling directly above them is about to fall and crush them. There's no way they can run out of the way in time.

Arthur forces himself to halt as he pulls the other boy in close. Before the boy has any time to react to the sudden situation, Arthur lifts up his wand at the ceiling and the tip of his wand begins to glow. Once the light reaches its seemingly maximum brightness, a sudden blast of light evaporates the flaming pillars that would have crushed them.

"Wh...what was that?" The boy asks, looking at Arthur.

Arthur says nothing, putting his wand away and finishing the sprint outside, pulling the boy along with him to the safety of the front yard of the burning house. Arthur then gently places Emil down on the ground and gives him a rather pitiful look, as if to apologise that he couldn't save more than his body. He then looks back up at the older boy.  
"...may I have your name?" Arthur asks the boy.

Coughing one last time to try and clear up his lungs again and then keeping steady eye contact with Arthur, the boy replies.  
"My name is Børre. Børre Thomassen."

Arthur nods and keeps the eye contact given to him.  
"Well Børre, you did not just see that. You did not see me pull out a wand and destroy a clump of physical objects that were going to crush us. I was never here. You got yourself and your brother out. Alright? Don't say another child helped you get out...I was never here...never here..." Arthur lowers his head as he ends his request, breaking the eye contact.

With a flick of the cape, Arthur sprints back the way he came, back towards the woods, leaving Børre to watch in confusion.

Once the caped figure that is Arthur disappears into the darkness of the forest, a loud slamming of a door is heard from not far off.  
"FIRE!" A deep voice yells across the village, followed by the loud ringing of a bell.

Soon after the sounding of the alarm, adults are running about the village, carrying buckets, bowls and anything big enough that can carry water. Notably, two men run up to look at the fire, one huffing as he arrives at the scene; out of breath.

"Ah! This is terrible...how did it get like this...without anyone waking up?" Huffs the out-of-breath man with short, dark hair, coughing as he asks, coughing afterwards.  
"I don't know...wait, Julius? What are you doing out?" The man with long, blonde hair is quick to ask his friend.  
With a wide grin, Julius just smiles. "Just because I'm sick doesn't mean I...should lay in bed and ignore a fire, Conrad...it could spread from house to house and...if action was taken any later..." He gives his excuse, coughing once more. His smile droops a bit as one of his legs gives in and he begins to fall. Conrad is quick to rush in and catch him, holding Julius up by keeping his arms under Julius'.  
"Take it easy Julius...you wait out here, I'll see if there's still anyone inside." Conrad insists.

"Um..." Børre sounds up.

The two men draw their attention to the two young children before them.

"Oh. Are you two the Thomassen siblings that recently moved into this house?" Conrad is the one to ask.  
Børre nods. "I escaped with my brother, but I think he suffocated on the smoke...he hasn't been breathing..."

"Are you sure?" Julius asks, trying to reach down and reach Emil laying on the ground, but he is restrained by Conrad.  
"I'll do this...don't tire yourself out." Conrad insists, gently lowering Julius into a sitting position then walking over to and cupping Emil in one arm so he can search for a pulse with his free hand. The longer it takes to find a pulse, the more worried Conrad gets about the situation. Julius and Børre watch him with a slight glimmer of hope until...  
"...I can't find a pulse. He's gone. I'm so sorry this had to happen to you Børre...losing your entire family at such a young age to a fire with no warning..." Conrad says in a rather sad tone so he doesn't sound like an emotionless monster. He bends down in an attempt to match Børre's height better to seem less intimidating. "We will give him a proper burial in the morning. In the meantime, you can live with me. I'm sure Julius would offer to do so, but his hands are full enough as it is..." Conrad then turns to the seated Julius and holds out Emil for him to take hold of. "You watch over Børre; I'm going to help with the fire." He stands up once Julius takes Emil into his arms and runs off, probably to get a bucket.

Julius can't help but watch the flames, almost awestruck.  
"Just a little over a year ago, a fire was used to rid the town of wizards and a witch. I feel as if this is...too much to be just a...mere coincidence." Julius then tilts his head away from the two children as he coughed, then looking back at Børre. "You didn't deserve any of this..."  
While Børre wanted to keep silent and just nod, the word 'wizard' triggered the image of the boy from earlier in his mind.  
"Um...wizards you say? Are you sure you got all of them?" Børre just has to ask.  
Julius gives him a funny look but gives him an awkward and soft smile. "Of course. We even got the one that tried to...hide in the forbidden woods. Do you think wizards...burnt your house down?"  
Børre looks toward the forest, then back at Julius. "I...guess you could say that." He mumbles, followed by a yawn, then looking at the woods again. "May I ask, why it's called the forbidden woods?"

Julius lets out a pained groan as he forces himself to lie down and look up at the stars. "It wasn't always referred to as that. We often went in so we could...take a shortcut to a nearby village, as well as...gather stuff like firewood. Ever since the Kirkland incident, people who...go too deep into the forest never come out, it's as if they...cursed the place with their dying breath..." He says, letting out a sigh afterwards, followed by coughing before he sighs. Børre looks at the sickly adult and sighs a little bit. He turns his head back to the forest, tilting his head in confusion. If people never came out of it once they went in, then why did the boy from earlier go in? And the magic he performed no doubt made him one of those fabled wizards. Did he escape death by faking it? Is he a completely different wizard boy? Børre had so many questions for that mysterious boy. Even though it's been described as a death sentence, he will have to go into the woods and find the boy so his questions can be answered.

Børre looks at the sickly adult and sighs a little bit. He turns his head back to the forest, tilting his head in confusion. If people never came out of it once they went in, then why did the boy from earlier go in? And the magic he performed no doubt made him one of those fabled wizards. Did he escape death by faking it? Is he a completely different wizard boy? Børre had so many questions for that mysterious boy. Even though it's been described as a death sentence, he will have to go into the woods and find the boy so his questions can be answered.

* * *

"Good Morning..."

Børre opens his eyes, blinks a few times then his vision becomes clear. Still wrapped up in bed and sleeping on his right side, what he sees next to his bed is a Brunette boy with violet eyes and glasses. The boy smiles brightly. "Looks like you're ready to greet the day!"  
Børre gives a slight tilt of the head to display his small amount of confusion.  
"Oh, right! I should introduce myself! I'm Roderich Beilschmidt! Second eldest child of this family. You met my father last night, right? Conrad? The man with long, blonde hair that put out the house fire?"

While the boy made things clearer by explaining, Børre didn't feel like replying to him and he chooses to stare back with a rather blank and speechless expression.

"No need to explain your silence, I understand why you don't want to talk about anything. What you went through...ah, apologies. I won't bring it up." Roderich reassures the younger child. "Now, I came here to tell you that breakfast is ready. If you're not up to it, I can get you a plate and bring it here." He offers.

Børre gives a bit of a sigh before rolling over, completely breaking his eye contact with Roderich. "I'm not hungry...sorry."  
Roderich looks a little upset by this but nods. "Alright, I'll leave you alone. You probably need time to adjust. Just ask me if you're looking for something..." He then takes a few steps back before turning around and walking out of the room.

Once Roderich is out of the room, Børre shuffles himself up into a sitting position and then looks out of the window to the left of him. It isn't an open window, but it looks as if it can be pushed up to let fresh air in.  
"...I need answers." Børre murmurs to himself, gripping onto the blanket to toss it to the side and off of himself. He bounces to his feet and then off the bed, feet almost sticking to the wooden floor as he lands. He suddenly sprints towards the wall with the window and taking a leap to reach the sill so he can climb and pull the window upward to open it. Grabbing the wooden bottom of the window, he pulls it up until he has to change it to a push. Once the window was open up wide enough for Børre to slip through and go outside, that's exactly what he did; landing on the rather dry dirt.

"Now, from here...the main entrance to the woods seems to be over there."  
Børre shifts his heads to his right before running in that direction and out from behind the house. The path that leads into the forest is now very clear to him, as it seems just to be a quick jog down the dirt road and past the lake. With his target locked on, he makes sure no one is there to watch him run before sprinting towards the entrance. A few round stones get stuck in his feet as he runs along the dirt path, but are quick to fall off and back on the ground. The ground beneath his feet eventually turns into soft grass, and his feet are cleaned as they brush against the tips of the grass.

"How deep do I have to go till I find answers? Will I make it out afterwards even?" Børre asks himself, not able to find an answer just by standing around. "I guess it's worth a shot to find out."

Pretending to roll up the sleeves to his coat - instead simply brushing up against the sleeves - Børre glares ahead and starts walking down the given dirt path before him. After only half a minute of walking, he feels as if he isn't walking in the right direction.  
"No, this is too obvious...if people get lost, they stray too far down this path trying _not_ to get lost. But if you try to get lost..." Børre looks to his sides to see nothing but groups of trees that appear to just get thicker and thicker the deeper it goes.  
With a gentle shrug of the shoulders, Børre chooses to run off-course from the given path and into the collection of trees.

Not turning back, Børre keeps running straight ahead; side-stepping away from trees so he doesn't crash into them. Aside from small concentrated rays of sunshine, the forest was rather dark with a lush green hue, as well as a lot of dark browns for the bark of the trees.

Stepping on twigs and stumbling after stepping on mossy rocks, Børre was slowly losing speed. He couldn't keep up with the pace he wanted to go at, and what's worse is that he saw no end to the trees in clear sight. After slowing down more and more, he comes to a complete stop to catch his breath.  
"Ugh...everything looks the same. Where did I even come from...?" Børre asks himself as he huffs. "If I can just find a clearing...then maybe..."

"Francis? Is that you?"

Børre shoots his sight quickly to his right. The voice is that of the young boy he met last night.  
"E-eh?" Is all Børre can reply with, not thinking of anything else fast enough.

"What are you doing over there? It's not tea time yet but..."

Børre holds his breath for a moment, readjusting his body and now walking towards the direction of the source. The closer Børre gets to the source, the brighter his surroundings become.

The final step in the approach toward the voice holder is a stumble through a bush, and falling flat on one's face.  
As Børre's face kisses the soft grass, the young boy sounds out once again.

"Y-you're not Francis! Yo-"

Approaching Børre, he the bends down next to him and waits for him to get up himself. "You're the boy from last night...what are you doing here? You shouldn't be here...did anyone follow you in?"

Børre stutters in an attempt to quickly explain himself. "D-don't worry, I checked. No one followed me in...I'm pretty sure." He manages to clearly say after putting his lips together for an extended time. "N-now, um...I don't think I got your name?"  
"It's Arthur." Arthur answers him fairly quickly, not having much patience with Børre.  
"Well, Arthur..." Børre clears his throat before continuing his sentence. "I came to find answers about last night...like why you saved me, why you're in here yourself and who you really are..."

"...You're asking way too much." Arthur replies, glaring at Børre. "How do I know I can trust you?"

Børre gives a bit of a scared glare at Arthur but tries to give off a neutral look. "Because you saved my life. What kind of person would turn their back on their hero?" He does his best to answer adequately.

Arthur replies by softening his glare and letting his tense arms relax, knowing that he won't need to get out his wand.  
"Well then Børre, I'll explain a little bit to you if you promise to keep it all to yourself..."

With a nod, Børre accepts his responsibility. "I will."

Arthur then grabs Børre's wrist and pulls him along to his home in the hollowed tree. Børre drags himself along by making an effort to keep up.  
Once the two are inside, Arthur lets go of Børre's wrist and walks over to a dangling string next to the entrance. He gently tugs on the string and a curtain made from huge chunks of bark fall to cover the entrance; the room immediately becomes darker with only a few cracks of light slipping through.  
"Please, take a seat." Arthur insists.

Børre looks straight ahead, managing to see a table and a stool in the darker room. He assumes the stool is Arthur's personal seating so he chooses to sit on the other side by bending down his knees to a sitting position; sitting on his butt would probably have the table obscure most of his face.  
Arthur does indeed take his seat on the stool; his feet dangling just above the ground.

"Now...you want to know why I saved you?" Arthur asks; just trying to make sure.  
Børre replies with a silent and quick nod.

Taking a deep breath before speaking, Arthur begins to answer.  
"I saved you because...well...I was there at the right time and any type of fire just..." Arthur holds back his explanation, not wanting to go into a sob story. "Well, fire and I don't go together at all. And seeing the house up in flames, I knew I had to do something, especially because I heard your cries...I couldn't leave you there for dead. I didn't want more innocent people to perish thanks to the flames..."

"More?" Børre replies with a tilt of the head.

"...Your family aren't the first to be killed by fire. You should know this...I'd tell you more, but that's all you need to know really; both our families were eaten by the flames." Arthur replies, with a rather 'done' look on his face. "Now, you got your answers, time for you to leave."

Børre gives off a flustered look at the immediate command. "But I just got here! And I still have-"  
"I'm already risking it by having told a boy that looks like a girl. I'm not going to say any more to you." Arthur cuts him off. He says it in a harsher tone than before but the shakiness that lies deep in the tone is clear to show that he really does want to tell more.

"Well, I don't want to go back! Unlike in the village, I feel...surprisingly safe here. No one would dare try to burn an entire forest, and after last night...well, me and fire don't agree with each other anymore." Børre tries coming up with an excuse to stay, half actually wanting to and half wanting to have an excuse to have the remainder of his questions answered.

Arthur says nothing while he remains seated. He jumps back down to the ground and speed-walks toward the string next to the entrance. He begins pulling down on it to roll the cover back up, letting all the light back in.  
"If you don't leave, they'd burn down this forest to find you once they search the village up and down. For reasons of my own, I can't leave to live in the village, you can." Arthur lets go of the rope then turns back around to look at Børre before he continues talking. "You obviously lied for me back there for whatever reason, please do that again and return to the village. No one else can know that I'm here."

"Oh...that makes sense. I'll leave." Børre accepts the request. Gripping the edge of the table he then lifts himself up back onto his feet. He prepares to walk off, but stops and stares at what would be a bare spot on the wall. "Hi there..."  
Arthur gives a puzzled look at Børre. "You can see him?"

Børre - in return - turns his head to look at Arthur. "Of course I can...is there something wrong with that?"  
"No, I just thought that I was the only one that could see them..." Arthur replies, approaching Børre. "He hasn't spoken his name, so we all just call him Mr Troll."

Børre looks up at Mr Troll.  
Green skin, huge jaw with small pointy teeth that stick out and upwards, pointy ears like an elf, big nose, muscular yet fat overall figure, pupilless white eyes and surprisingly long hair as well as a thick beard.  
"Hm, you seem awfully lonely...does Arthur talk to you often?" Børre walks up towards him, hoping to get his attention. "Or maybe you're just not the talkative type. That's alright..."

Arthur was rather surprised at what had just happened; Børre wasn't scared of Mr Troll. Even though he trusts Mr Troll himself, he always thought Mr Troll was a tad scary due to his appearance and lack of presence half the time...but Børre walked up to him and started talking to him as if he was a relative at a family gathering. And to surprise Arthur even more, Mr Troll starts to move; not by much but it was still movement; movement was rare for Mr Troll.

Mr Troll lifts up his arm and hovers it above Børre before gently lowering it onto Børre's head to ruffle his hair.  
Børre seems to like the feeling of his hair getting ruffled, as shown by the small smile on his face.

"He appears to like you, Børre." Arthur comments, softly smiling.  
"You think?" Børre then tries to smooth down his hair.  
"Yeah...well, you should-"

"Oh, you have fairies here too? Ahhh, they look so pretty! Their wings sparkle as they flutter about...hello there!" Børre is soon mesmerised by what look like tiny girls with bug-like wings in rather frilly dresses.

With a sigh, Arthur walks up to his fairy guardians. "Um, not to be rude to Børre but I think he has stayed a little bit too long...Alice, can you escort him back to the village?"

The small fairy in the blue dress with her blonde hair tied up in two long ponytails nods. She bounces and signals for Børre to follow her by pointing to the exit of the literal treehouse.  
"Oh...alright. Will I see you later, Arthur?" Børre asks.

In response, Arthur cups his hands together before he starts twiddling his thumbs. "I don't know...I can't guarantee anything. Goodbye."

"G-goodbye then..." Børre replies with a bit of a sigh before looking straight at Alice to follow her out.

* * *

"Alice, do you even know where you're going? I think I've seen this bush three times already..." Børre squeaks as he whines a little bit, then he hears rustling nearby.  
"W-who's there?" He asks out of instinct, even though he thinks he shouldn't have said anything.

"...I could ask the same question! You don't sound like the one I'm looking for, though." The voice replies.  
Alice seems to recognise the voice and flies over to the location of the holder.  
"A-Alice, wait!" Børre huffs, begging to pick up the pace and run to keep up with her very fast fluttering.

Børre runs till he reaches Alice's new location, stopping only once he collides with something; that something being what appears to be a girl with shoulder-length blonde hair, a blue dress and brown boots on her personnel. She also appears to be carrying a woven basket.  
"Well, my name isn't Alice, but I guess I can look like one at times!" Is the girl's response to Børre's earlier call. She then bends her her knees so she's closer to Børre's height. "Now, what are you doing out here?"

Børre's rather stumped by the girl's question. Alice attempts to speak up, but Børre cuts her off by saying something in response. "Well, do you have a reason to be out here?"  
Before the girl replies, she surveys the nearby area to make sure there isn't anyone else around; there isn't. "Do you know...Arthur?" She asks.

Putting on a more serious face, Børre replies once more. "Why are you asking me that?"

With a soft smile, the girl seems to have seen right through Børre's defences. "Ah, so you do."  
Børre would have asked how she knew that, but keeping Arthur a secret is something he has promised to himself ever since last night so he chose to remain silent.  
"You don't look like one that would tell anyone else so that's good...now, you're heading back out, right?" The girl dismisses Børre's silence and asks another question.

"Um, yes." Børre is quick to answer, wanting to move away from the topic of Arthur as quickly as possible.  
"Well, just head in that direction and you'll reach the main path, head towards the light, and you'll arrive back in the village. I just came from there." The girl then points in a north-east direction from where Børre is standing. "And, if my siblings ask where Francis is, please don't tell them that I've gone into the Forbidden Woods..."

The girl gets back up to a standing position then lifts her leg up in preparation to run, but lowers it back down. "You are from Calton village, right?" She asks one last question.  
Børre nods. "Yes. I moved in fairly recently...does the name Børre sounds familiar?"  
"Ah, that's why you didn't look familiar, you're new. And Børre...that's new to me!" The girl replies, now smiling sweetly. "Well, you head back home now, Børre I'll be off." The girl lifts her leg up once more and then runs off in the direction Børre came from.

"...don't be fooled, that's a boy." Alice comments in her rather high-pitched yet rusty voice.  
"W-what?!" Børre looks up at Alice who is fluttering next to him; shock covers his face.  
"Francis is his name...I'll tell you more as we go back." Alice says. "Come along now."  
"Right." With a nod, Børre begins walking back once more, Alice by his side.


End file.
